


Equinox

by jasperwhitcock



Category: Twilight Series - All Media Types, Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-02
Updated: 2020-12-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 48,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23962111
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jasperwhitcock/pseuds/jasperwhitcock
Summary: No painted eyes could haunt me here.And yet, I was left with a sense of uneasiness, feeling as if my life thus far had been a long exposition, and I had just encountered the inciting incident. I was feeling – though I’d been irrevocably altered once before – as if something would soon change me forever.In the gloomy small town of Forks, Washington, Bella Cullen has grown accustomed to the tedium of attending yet another day of high school – as an immortal vampire, she and her adopted siblings have experienced more than enough of their fair share of academia. But when a perceptive new student named Edward Masen crosses her path, she finds her carefully constructed world of monotony and facade to be violently altered in both terrible and wonderful ways. Can either one of them afford for Bella to be curious about the boy with too many questions?
Relationships: Edward Cullen/Bella Swan
Comments: 109
Kudos: 161





	1. Impossibility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _i've never used ao3 before & i truly feel ancient trying to navigate the website. it's embarrassing how you can go from thinking you're an html coding god because you changed your tumblr theme when you were 14 years old to feeling like your parents. anyways. i began posting this as [jasperwhitcock](https://jasperwhitcock.tumblr.com/) on tumblr but am now posting the story here as well to be more accessible! this is based off an [au in which bella is a cullen & edward is a human](https://bellasredchevy.tumblr.com/post/184215625257/expanding-a-little-bit-on-this-idea-edward-figures) that kae [bellasredchevy](https://bellasredchevy.tumblr.com/) elaborated on! i stan kae forever. essentially, this is kind of a reverse midnight sun. so hold on tight, spider monkeys._

It was an impossibility for me to have missed the presence of my adopted brother entering the room. What with my astute senses, my supernatural sensitivity to _everything_ – the microscopic details of the book page’s porous beige paper, the length of his shadow stretching onto the floor beneath the novel in my hands, cast from the golden light of the hallway, the smooth, feathery finish of the paper under my frozen fingers, the whooshing sound of air caressing his mountainous stature as he appeared, the soft yet heavy thud of his feet against the floor – a sound nearly imperceptible, the impossible to place scent of something like bergamot, white cedar, rose, and sandalwood perfuming the room at his appearance. An impossibility, and yet, my focus was so invested in the words inked on the page, enamored with a story I’d read a hundred, a thousand, a million times, that I found myself shocked when the novel surprisingly ripped down the spine into two perfect halves before my eyes, another one of my novels that he had plucked off the shelf barreling towards my face. He had thrown the other book with such force that in the process of his attempt to grasp my attention, he knifehand-striked a book I had taken from my mother’s sad little toilet-reading, bathroom basket collection of a library.

I was on my feet hunched towards him infinitesimally, the book that had been less than a centimeter from crashing into my face tenderly clutched in my right hand, my lips pulled back over my teeth to let out a snarl. The right half of the original novel I had held fell onto the floor with a thump a moment later. He stood crouched as well, a wicked smile spread on his lips, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He loved provocation – eliciting this kind of response in me fueled him. A fight with some authentic irritation, a fight with an edge.

“Time for school, baby sister,” He raised an eyebrow, inviting the challenge.

“Emmett,” I hissed through my teeth, tensed to launch myself at him. Part of my mind sifted through a dozen plans of attack, strategizing what would be my most successful method of taking him down since he was pretty much insurmountable. He had all the strength and all the size. Stealth would be my greatest chance. Another part of my mind pulsed with irritation, an irrational, furious mood swing sweeping over me. The kind of emotional response only _our_ kind could experience...or handle. I nearly saw red as the rest of the words flew through my lips. “Couldn’t you have told me that without destroying a priceless artifact of my human life, _big brother?”_

I made the name sound like a curse word.

“Artifact?” Emmett snorted. “Please. How many times have you read that same damn story in the past few years? I did you a favor,” he smirked as he feigned right and left so fast that it was as if he hadn’t moved at all.

I tensed to hurl myself forward at the opportune moment before a tsunami tide of calmness washed over the room along with an earthy aroma of citrus, patchouli, musk, and leather. “We really should be leaving now,” my other adopted brother Jasper murmured in his lightly southern accent as he appeared.

“Restricting as it may be, vehicles only allow up to a certain speed, and Esme wouldn’t like for us to be late,” my tiny sister materialized by his side in a blur of porcelain skin and inky black hair. “Although, maybe she’d get a kick out of a call home for tardiness,” Alice laughed, a sound like windchimes. “I can tell you who would have won or you could have your fight later.”

“Ugh,” Emmett groaned in disappointment, dropping his stance. “It’s so hard to get her _that_ riled up. Fuck!” He complained, grumpily disappearing from the room in a flash.

“Later,” he promised under his breath from the garage.

“You would have won,” Alice mouthed, her beautiful lips stretching into a secretive smile as she winked. She picked up the other half of the novel I had purposefully dropped to catch the meteor Emmet had propelled, tossing it in the air towards me in one fluid motion.

I grinned to myself, gently tucked the other book back into its rightful place on the shelf across the room and caught the ruined piece before it hit the ground. My face immediately dropped into a frown as I analyzed both halves. Fortunately, _Pride and Prejudice_ was not beyond repair. I could mend the division by sewing it back together down the spine later. I set the injured book down and flew downstairs not a moment later. As I passed my adopted mother on the way to the door, I pecked her on the cheek before exiting the house and sliding into the dark leather backseat of the pearly white car, taking my seat next to Alice. Without checking the mirrors, Rosalie sped out of the garage as soon as the door lifted enough for us to clear.

The trees outside the windows were a green haze as we flew by, our speed only decreasing when we arrived in the main part of town among other drivers. We could have ran to school much, much faster – and thus not had any concern about tardiness – but without our cars for appearance, our show might prove unconvincing. It wasn’t abnormal to walk to school in the unrelenting pouring of rain in our small town of Forks, Washington. However, though few people in town knew the location of our home, perhaps the front office ladies might find it concerning that a group of teenagers trekked a half marathon to their classes. It was unlikely they’d care to look up the address from our files, but we were never too cautious. 

I liked running. I had been characterized as very clumsy in my human life, so it was a welcome change to feel graceful and coordinated. It was a welcome change to feel powerful. It was, however, unwelcome to participate in the daily charade of masquerading as exactly the opposite of that. As much as I had enjoyed my afterlife, I loathed the same thing many teenagers did, a hatred that may be my greatest commonality with the humans that surrounded me.

High school.

I didn’t mind school prior to my immortal life. I had been decent and even above-average in most subjects. I had been a responsible, diligent, and quiet seventeen year old: I paid attention, I completed assignments in time, and I spent most of my time in solitude which allowed me ample time to study. There were subjects I enjoyed far more than others that kept things interesting enough for me. Unfortunately, after a number of graduations, high school lost any potential interest and became something of a purgatory. Even classes like English lost their charm over time. Once you had spent years studying literature from the greatest professors, scholars, and writers both living and dead, it was immensely rare for a small town high school English teacher to offer a new take that would make my attendance worthwhile.

Attending high school provided us with the opportunity to remain in one place longer, so complain as much as I want, I suppose it’s something to fill the endless amounts of time. Still, that didn’t make the obligation any more tolerable.

Rosalie hummed along to a song playing quietly through the speakers while Emmett sulked in the passenger seat over having missed out on a fight. I smiled, a bit smug. On the other side of where Alice occupied the middle seat, I sensed Jasper’s head jerk slightly in my direction to see the expression that reflected my slight change in mood. I shook my head, still smiling, and he smirked himself before returning his attention back to his window. His scarred hand traced affectionate circles onto Alice’s hand in her lap, and she stared forward, her unfocused eyes seeing not what was in front of her, but the potential realities of the future.

They were a gifted couple. We become immensely enhanced when we’re transformed from being human, and as a result, some immortals are equipped with a special gift on top of their already unparalleled supernatural senses. Our creator and father figure Carlisle theorized that our strongest traits from our human life develop in even stronger ways once we’ve been changed. Jasper’s influential nature flourished into a skill of sensing and manipulating the emotional climate of those around him. Alice’s gift was even more unique. She could see into the future. We didn’t know what in her human life this had developed from. Her past was a secret to not only us but to Alice as well.

I, too was gifted. For some time, we had no idea until I had met our cousins. In Denali, Alaska, there was another coven similar to us not just in kind but in diet and ideology who we considered extended family. Another commonality we share is that they also have gifted immortals among their coven. One of the only males, Eleazar’s, gift was sensing the abilities of other vampires, and he had detected my ability. He revealed, to all of our surprise, that I was something called a mental shield. It’s a talent of blocking out any powers that could invade my mind, and it is absolutely, entirely useless to me. I didn’t have a need for this kind of protection. My gift was a complete waste.

The drizzling rain was picking up into a steadier shower as we pulled into the small parking lot of Forks High School. Scenting the earthy, fresh stormy air was the tempting fragrance of the students’ pulsing blood as they ran for the dry cover of the maroon brick buildings. I was entirely satiated from my most recent hunt. Still, my throat burned with the slight dryness that would never completely go away. Jasper sighed.

There were only a few late stragglers hurrying from their vehicles towards their classes that could potentially see us, but as Rosalie parked, we moved at the frustratingly slow pace of the humans around us as a precaution. No risks. After exiting the car, Alice tossed me my backpack of useless school material from the trunk. I slid one strap over my shoulder and departed from my siblings for my first class.

The rest of the morning dragged along like a slow, drawn out sigh. I spent most of the time in my classes thinking of ways I could reorganize the book shelves in my room again. By genre, by author name, by theme, by year published, by year the story takes place, by favorite author, by alphabetical order of the location the story was set, by date of author’s death, by favorite to least favorite protagonist, by which accumulated the most pieces of literary criticism, by section that each family member might enjoy the most, by order in which I first read each, by order of which I read most to least, by order of which my family had read most to least, by alphabetical order of the antagonist’s name, and by which was least to most realistic were all ways I had structured my personal library in the past few years. I was toying with the idea of organizing by order of the birthday of the first character introduced, but a lot of the birthdays had not been established throughout the plot. I would have to decide where they would fit throughout the year based on which zodiac sign I might consider them to have depending on their character traits. Not that I held much stock in astrology – horoscopes did me no good when I had a future-telling sister.

The only difference in this day compared to any other day was that the trivial gossip I unintentionally overheard throughout the hallways concerned a new addition to the student body. This stirred up a lot of interest seeing as the majority of the children here knew each other for the entirety of their lives. What I had gathered in passing was that it was a junior boy named Edward Masen from Chicago who had recently moved from living abroad with his family. The girls were very excited – they considered him a very attractive potential new love interest. Attractive, though those who had been brave enough to speak to him found him to be impenetrable despite his charm. I wondered what the boy would make of me and my family.

I joined my siblings at our lunch table, the farthest table from everybody else in the room. In front of each of us was the prop of a lunch tray piled with unappetizing food. Alice sat, staring forward with empty eyes again, living in her own ever-changing reality. Jasper and Emmett made a hacky sack out of an apple and subtly kicked it back and forth in the air beneath the table, the apple moving too fast for human eyes to detect. Rose twirled a piece of her golden hair around in her hands, disinterested. Her thoughts were clearly elsewhere. As were all of ours. Occasionally, she participated in their game by intercepting the apple with her foot.

“The new student’s going to ask about us in approximately fifteen seconds,” Alice chirped, her face returning to the present.

Emmett chuckled quietly.

“What will be said, and how will the boy respond?” Rosalie asked, her foot sending the apple reeling toward the ceiling.

Alice caught the apple in her slender, white hand before tossing it back to Emmett to end the game. “No different than anything else that’s been said, and no different than anybody else.”

I scanned the cafeteria to find the new student, so I could place a face to the upcoming conversation I’d be listening in on.

My eyes locked with a pair of soft green eyes set in a pale, angular face beneath an untidy mess of strange bronze hair. I looked away immediately but caught the beginning jolt of shock lighting up those surprisingly wise eyes.

“Who are _they?”_ The boy gasped. So it had been my gaze that brought Alice’s vision to life. No doubt he’d immediately recognize the subtle differences that distinguish our kind from his. Emmett and I exchanged a glance, laughing under our breath as another junior student I recognized as Naomi Parker provided the common knowledge of the strange Cullen children. The story was complicated. In Forks, the explanation for our family was that Carlisle had adopted his twin niece and nephew, Rosalie and Jasper Hale, after the unexpected passing of his much older half-brother. Similarly, after a tragic car accident took the lives of Esme’s parents in addition to her aunt and uncle, she took in her younger siblings, Emmett and I, along with her niece Alice to look after us. Bonding over the shared experience of so much responsibility so young, Carlisle and Esme eloped, and we formed one giant, misshapen family.

Instinctively, I caught the apple in my hand just as it nearly turned into applesauce by means of collision with my stone face. I snarled at Emmett’s hysteric expression, hiding my hand from view so that anyone watching would have missed the entire catch. “Would you quit doing that today!?”

Rosalie shot Emmett a disapproving look. He shouldn’t be so irresponsible when we were clearly on display for the new Masen kid. I minutely glanced towards his table to make sure they were no longer watching us. The boy seemed to be focused on the information he was receiving.

“This,” I snarled, sneakily disintegrating the apple into a pulp in my hand below the table where the humans couldn’t see, “will be what happens to you at home.” I made a show of letting the mush slide off my hand onto my tray.

My brother guffawed, and my other siblings joined in the laughter.

“In your dreams!”

Though I laughed as well, I couldn’t help but feel the intensity of watching eyes.

“Who’s the girl with the really long dark hair?” The soft, low voice of the boy asked quietly from across the room.

Reflexively, my eyes met his stare once again. He looked away quickly.

“That’s Bella. She’s insanely beautiful obviously, but if you’re thinking about trying to talk to her, forget it,” Naomi shrugged.

Once lunchtime was over, we disbanded to head off to the last half of yet another monotonous day. On my way out of the cafeteria, I purposely bumped into the trash can for Emmett’s benefit as he and Rose followed close behind. The action was a little more violent than I intended, and the plastic container bent slightly at the force.

“Oops,” I bit my lip to keep from smiling as he erupted into laughter. Upon our move to Forks, it had become something of a joke between Emmett and I for me to feign clumsiness. I didn’t participate in this joke daily, but every once in a while, I’d sprinkle in an elaborate fall for his sake.

When I reached my junior level Biology class, I settled into my seat at the lab table I shared with no one. I laid the books devoid of any information relevant to me out on the table, and propped an elbow on the surface to hold my head up in my hand, awaiting the oncoming tedium. 

The room filled as students returned from lunch. I paid them no attention, my eyes fixated on counting the snow-like particles of chalk dust floating in the air likely from Mr. Molina writing on the board prior to the end of lunch.

“Ah, welcome, Mr. Masen! We’re so glad to have you join us. You can take the seat next to Miss Cullen.”

I looked up to find the biology teacher pointing in my direction. Next to him was the new boy. Standing up, he appeared very lanky – several inches taller than our teacher – though his physique was still slightly muscular.

I pulled the books closer to my side of the table to make room for him, feeling bad that he had the misfortune of being assigned the seat next to me. He would probably feel more comfortable anywhere else. Not only because I didn’t go out of my way to interact much with my classmates, but because their long-buried survival instincts told them what their brains didn’t totally understand: we were dangerous.

I had never been more dangerous than I was in that moment. Because after the Masen kid politely thanked the teacher, he turned down the aisle, directly in front of the heated airflow that blew towards me.

His scent washed over me like the most vicious, violent wave, a wall of unrelenting water in a heavy thunderstorm in the middle of the ocean, drowning me, taking me down, down, down, further and further away from the traces of humanity I had once clung to.

In every direction of this blackest of depths, there was no escape that could lead me back to the light; I resurfaced as the monster I pretended not to be.

The sweet enticing smell of Edward Masen’s blood compelled my throat to rupture into a burning, aching fire. I had never been ablaze with such need. My mouth was pooling with venom as my prey approached. Since he spoke, he had only taken another step forward. He would not take another.

As my muscles begged for the release that would send me springing forward, stealing the first life of my existence, those sage eyes glanced at me, widening in bewilderment at the vicious expression contorting my features.

With great difficulty, I emerged from my horrible, repulsive compulsion. The look on his face was enough to spare him another moment.

His scent perfumed the air around me; I was encompassed in this irresistible cloud of bloodlust, eager to leap up and put an end to this unexpected torture.

In all my years of immortality, I had never experienced a desire this overwhelming. I had never been so vulnerable to committing this kind of atrocity. My record was clean. With guidance, I had been able to restrain myself from the temptation of human blood. Of course, instinct is not easily fought. Sometimes the abstinence was painful. But never like this.

A dozen scenarios on how to kill this poor human boy crossed my mind, and I combatted every single one with the last miserable shred of self control I had left. I had never exerted so much effort. The toil was something hazily reminiscent of human exhaustion, weighing heavily onto me.

I had no choice but to end his life. There was no other way.

He awkwardly settled into the seat next to me, aware of some unknown hostility, but unaware of the ferocity raging within, unaware of the way his blood sang to me, inviting me in, inviting me to betray all my years of discipline, effort, and tolerance. Inviting me to betray my family.

Despite the absolute consumption, by some miracle, I resisted.

I desperately clung to the thought of my family. Rosalie. Esme. Carlisle. Alice. Emmett. Jasper.

They loved me. They would forgive me for this detestable, inexorable act. They would understand. They wouldn’t harbor any judgment.

But how could I let them down in this way? Everything about who we are, everything about what unites us and bonds us is intricately traced back to the compassion that rules our lives. It’s what makes us different from others of our kind. It’s what allows us to retain some remnants of the humanity we’ve lost. So just as I’ve done before, I would withstand human blood now. No matter the agony that accompanies the resistance.

I took one last deep breath. The scent washed down my throat, burning me alive from the inside out.

I wouldn’t dare to breath for the next torturous hour. It was uncomfortable to forgo the sensation, but the consequences that would follow if I did breathe had far worse implications.

Could I last that long? What was I trying to prove? Was the possibility of a lapse in the best of my judgment worth not succumbing to the honest truth – that I had more weakness in the face of human blood than I thought?

Perhaps Emmett might make fun of me. Perhaps Jasper might secretly appreciate someone else struggling more than he did. But Carlisle and Esme wouldn’t see any weakness in leaving. They’d be proud of me for making this decision. They’d understand.

The last of the students were arriving from lunchtime. Now was the greatest opportunity to escape without drawing too much attention. In my peripheral, I saw the boy open his mouth to begin to speak to me.

If I didn’t leave now, I never would. My resolve was slipping away with every thud of the boy’s heart.

I got up and walked to the front of the classroom a little too fast.

“Mr. Molina?” I asked, my voice tight. The biology teacher looked up from a lesson plan he was reviewing, his eyes startled as he registered my face. I heard his heartbeat pick up from the surprise.

“I’m feeling a little... unwell. May I be excused?” I utilized the last of my breath, hoping the subtle begging in my voice didn’t prompt more questions.

Mr. Molina recollected himself, his eyebrows pulling together in slight concern along with confusion. The Cullens were never sick.

“Of course, Miss Cullen. Do you need a nurse’s pass-” He began before I cut him off, resentfully taking another tormenting breath. The scent sent my mind reeling. I fought for coherency in my thoughts.

I didn’t need to work to put on a show; I probably looked pale and sick enough.

“No thank you,” I spoke quickly, desperate for the relief of fresh, untainted air.

“Alright, then. I hope you feel better-” I was out of the room before he could finish the rest of the statement. The bell for class rang. The hallways were empty, so I risked the charade and began to move at an inhuman speed around the corner. Only when I had exited the building did I allow myself to breathe again. I gasped, nearly choking on the mouthfuls of clean air when I reached the car. My head was still spinning as I climbed into the drivers’ seat. I gave little thought to worrying if my quick movements in the classroom would reveal too much. I hoped that the students were too focused on finishing up their leftover conversations from lunch to notice. 

With a jolt, I realized I was not alone in the car. In the passenger seat sat my tiny sister.

“Bella?” She asked, her pitch-black eyes unable to convey the concern that was etched on the rest of her pixie-like features.

“Alice,” I breathed. I had been so distracted with my own thoughts I hadn’t even paid any attention to the proximity of the familiar vanilla and jasmine fragrance of her skin. What was wrong with me today?

“Are you alright? I saw…”

I winced, knowing what she must have seen.

“I’m fine. I just… I-... I don’t know what happened…” The words flew rapidly out of my mouth.

“Do you need help? Should I grab the boys? Or would you like to leave-”

“No! No. It’s really not...a big deal. I’m just going to… I promise I’m fine. I won’t go back there-” I gulped, the venom filling my mouth as I even considered returning to the class where he sat. Alice’s eyes widened, so I stopped the thought in its tracks. “Rosalie has a free period right now. I think I’ll go find her. I’ll see you when school is over.”

I reached for the door, turning away from her, shame filling me, making me unwilling to face her any longer. Her slender hand grabbed my other wrist, pulling me to a stop. “I’ll come with you.”

“Don’t. I’m fine, Alice!” I pulled my hand away too defensively. Regret replaced the shame for a moment. “Sorry.”

I left her alone in the car, feeling guilty.

I knew it was risky to utilize my sense of smell, but following the sweet, warm aroma of orange blossom, marshmallow, and roses – and avoiding anywhere remotely near the science wing – I found my other sister alone in an empty classroom. Now that it had been distinguished from the rest, I could still smell the boy, but with more distance between us, it was easier withstand the temptation.

“You’re not in class?” She asked as she typed into a computer, her back turned to me. It looked as though she was searching for some car parts. Even though I helped her in the garage sometimes, after all these years I was still no better at identifying anything related to automobiles.

“Rose...” I began, before stopping short, unsure of what to say.

She turned around in an indiscernible millisecond, her breathtaking face worried at the tone of my voice. “What’s wrong?”

She reached for me consolingly. Though I didn’t need the rest – I could stand still for hours on end and never feel tired – I sat on the floor beside her chair, hugging my knees to my chest, my eyes fixated on the dust deep in the roots of the rough, outdated carpet.

Her silky hands smoothly brushed through my hair, patiently waiting for me to build up the courage to speak. It felt nice.

After a few seconds, she spoke up. “Bella, you’re worrying me.”

I sighed.

“I’ve never...struggled this way before,” I admitted, exasperated with myself.

I could see that she was nodding out of the corner of my eye, immediately understanding. “That’s nothing to be ashamed about, Bella.”

I didn’t need to see her face to know her perfect lips were set into a deep frown. She wasn’t lying to me, but I knew to her, this existence was everything to be ashamed about.

“I won’t pretend that I don’t find myself...repulsed with...well, what we are. That’s no secret to anyone.” Her musical laughter had a dark edge to it. “But I’ve spent enough time for all of us hating myself for the impulses we have and the tragedy of our existence. You needn’t be so hard on yourself. It’s alright to...” She trailed off, selecting different words. “We’ve chosen an abnormal path in this non-life of ours. The terrible consequences of what we are are _normal”_ – her hands froze in my hair briefly saying the word – “so try to let go of the shame I know you’re feeling, though I don’t blame you for feeling that way.”

She paused for a moment before adding, “you know we won’t allow you to harm anyone.”

I bit down on my lower lip. I was glad I came to Rosalie. She didn’t think I was being overdramatic the way Emmett might have.

Though I deeply loved my mother from my human life, there hadn’t been much maternal guidance in our relationship. We had a strong bond, but I was far more of a caretaker than she was. I had been very lucky in this immortal life. Esme treated me as her own daughter, and I became truly taken care of. Just as Esme became the most loving mother figure in all the ways that counted, Rosalie became the very best protective older sister. My life had no shortage of supportive femininity and womanhood.

I heard a springy, featherlight approach of fast footsteps.

“I told you not to follow me.”

Alice poked her tongue out at me as she entered the room and fluttered to my other side, joining my other sister in stroking my head. “You’ll forgive me. I didn’t want to be left out of a sister moment.” 

Her words brought half a smile to my face.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to be comforted by Rosalie’s words and the soft feeling of my sisters’ hands in my hair.

Yes, it was undeniable what I was. I could never change the fact. But I could deny myself the instincts that identified me this way, and I could change the fate of this boy. I could deny myself Edward Masen.


	2. Distractions

The boys had left for a hunting trip, so I found myself falling victim to what Alice liked to call a “sleepover." It was a ridiculous name for this kind of occasion. An unfortunate part of what we were consequently lost us the ability to sleep and thus, dream. I had found this to be something I considered an advantage when I was first changed. I had so much extra time I could devote to reading! Unfortunately, the excitement didn’t last very long. I still enjoyed the benefits of all the ample time, but I did miss the creativity of my subconscious that allowed me to live in other worlds unrestricted by the more sentient, aware parts of my mind. I missed escapism.

I even missed the nightmares at times. I had been such a vivid dreamer.

Additionally, it was even further ridiculous to refer to this as a sleepover when we spent every night together. Without the sleep and the ‘over’ aspect of spending the night away from home, this was definitely the worst sleepover I’d been to in the course of my existence.

Although, as a bonding time amongst the women of the Olympic Coven, with the exception of some of Alice’s ideas for activities, I enjoyed this kind of night very much. I’d have gone with the boys to hunt if I had any intention of returning to school tomorrow. I’d owe them an explanation when they returned as for the tension that filled the car as we drove home from school. I hated to be the center of attention, so I was appreciative when Alice and Rosalie agreed to keep the horrific encounter a secret for now. I didn’t want the scrutiny of their concern nor the dramatics of the situation.

I was lucky that they had plans with Carlisle. Rosalie was able to convince Emmett and Jasper to begin their night early by allowing us to drop them off at the hospital – much to the dismay of my bulkier brother who had spent his day eagerly anticipating our rematch. My other sister easily dismissed their suspicion of our motives. Nobody questioned Alice twice. I was glad to have more time to mull over what to say to Carlisle. As much as I wanted his guidance, if I could put off growing the audience to my moment of weakness for another couple of hours, I’d gladly take the distraction of Alice braiding my hair into a long plait down my back while she blasted music in the garage where Rosalie worked.

Typically when we had nights like these, we each selected an activity to do together. Alice made the choice – unfortunately for me – to sort through all of our closets and rid them of items she no longer deemed wearable. With the exception of a few favorites, we rarely wore the same things twice, so it seemed like a waste of time. That is until I realized that this was all just a ruse to chastise me for the items of clothing she stocked in my closet that I _didn’t_ wear. My small, voyeuristic sister was pleased with Rosalie and Esme, creating a nice, substantial pile of clothing to donate, whereas my closet ended up acquiring even more clothing than before. I was far too moody to care to protest.

Esme arranged for the four of us to paint together while some french movie played in the background. As an added challenge, she had Alice describe a vision to us, and we all attempted to capture the image on our canvases. Rosalie simply wanted our company as she continued her ongoing project of restoring yet another classic car that she’d eventually gift as an item for a charity auction. My activity of choice usually was the same: I’d select a book for us to read, and we’d have a book club to conclude the night once we’d all finished.

Tonight, however, I wasn’t feeling entirely up for it. Although I definitely wouldn’t mind the fictional escape from Forks, I didn’t have it in me to sincerely participate in the conversation that would follow.

I wanted to move beyond the events of this afternoon already. As much as it disconcerted me, I didn’t want to be so severely consumed. I was growing irritated with the feelings of disappointment that preoccupied me. I had taken my ease in this life for granted.

Although I knew it wasn’t his fault, I found myself becoming frustrated with the Masen kid. When I began to see eyes materializing in the green brush strokes of the trees of my painting, I unintentionally destroyed my canvas. Something about the perplexity in his shockingly perceptive irises and the intelligence that marked his thick eyebrows when they pulled together was inexplicably haunting me. The irony of feeling haunted when I was the undead creature was not lost on me.

“I’ll grab you another one, dear,” Esme soothed, exchanging worried glances with Rosalie and Alice before disappearing to bring me another large square of coarse, woven white fabric to vandalize.

When the lyrics of the song Alice sang along to as Esme handed Rosalie the tools she needed began to creep into my head and develop new meanings I didn’t want to hear, I abruptly sprang from the driver's seat of Rose’s convertible and ran from the garage. I wanted to unravel in peace.

I stopped when I reached the large, grey stones of the riverbank.

The forest was peaceful. It was nearly dawn; a pale, purple-grey tinted light cloaked the scenery before me, the orange and pink hues of the morning sun that should fade into the navy-black of the night sky were hidden behind a thick layer of rain clouds. The water of the river flowed sinuously by as some birds sang far in the distance. The greenery was enveloped in the fallen rain of the night, droplets of water clinging stunningly to every blade of grass, every needle of pine of the lush vegetation like crystals and diamonds. A cold mist intimately caressed the river, enveloping the landscape in a fresh haze. I could now see the vision Alice described a few hours prior come to life. Here I stood now, quietly, amongst the skyline of trees in daybreak.

I closed my eyes to the muted beauty of this morning, indifferent to the ephemerality of the moment. How many mornings had I seen like this? They were all already cemented in my infallible mind. I breathed in, the cold air whistling deliciously down my throat. On my tongue I could taste the minty, rain-kissed evergreens, the warm streams of blood pumping the tiny, fluttering heartbeats of the smallest animals, the earthy, sweet brooks leading back to the river. The wind softly stroked the sparkling spring water, and as I focused on the faint whisper of an insect’s fluttering wings, I heard the lithe, recognizable stride of my adopted mother approaching. With her came new scents and sounds – white gardenia, freshly baked bread, honey, peach blossoms, a whisper of lush silk, a hiss of air, a gentle nuzzling of fast footsteps on glossy moss.

She arrived by my side but said nothing, joining me in my silent reverie.

“You have nothing to say?” I asked after we stood there for some time, Esme watching what I assumed was the faint hint of the sun rising beyond the clouds, lifting the overcast view into lighter shades of blue-grey. I could feel the slight difference in temperature against my skin.

“Is there something you wish for me to say, sweetheart?” Esme asked gently.

I finally opened my eyes, turning to meet her topaz eyes full of love and patience.

“Not really,” I half-smiled, feeling guilty.

Her beautiful mouth widened into a smile, lighting up her heart-shaped face. She seemed to find some humor in my honesty, letting out a peal of laughter that frightened some distant creatures into silence at the unexpected sound of bells. Her caramel-colored waves of hair shook lightly with the motion.

“Oh, my Bella.” Instantaneously, I was enveloped in her warm, velvet arms. “It is absolutely valid to feel such despondency, but we must celebrate that we are not mourning the loss of another life! For that, I am very proud of you. And I’ve been so relieved that in this life you’ve never had to grieve the mistakes that even I have made...but we would never feel differently towards you if you had. Nor do we feel differently that you’re experiencing a struggle much more strenuous than before.”

She paused before continuing more fervently. “It makes you no less strong, and you will have the strength to resist...I believe that with all my heart. Please don’t feel so disappointed with yourself. You must give yourself some credit and patience and forgiveness. It pains me to see you so cheerless!”

“I’m sorry I seem so...down,” I sighed, resting my head dejectedly on her shoulder. “I guess, to be frank, it just...sucks to feel like I don’t have the super sense of self control that I thought I did. I’m beginning to feel bad for Jasper now,” I snorted bitterly.

She laughed again at my colloquial choice of words.

“Perhaps you owe him an apology. You and your brother have given him an awful lot of trouble for how he struggles,” my mother accused me teasingly, stroking my hair just as my sisters had. The comfort was nice, but I also felt irrationally remorseful to have any need for it.

“Yeah, maybe I do,” I frowned, thinking of having to put aside my pride.

She pulled away to hold me at arm’s length, cautiously studying my face.

After a moment, she pulled me against her again in another embrace.

“I will leave you alone now. It seems you would benefit from some more time by yourself to think without your sisters’ futile attempts to distract you.”

I could tell she was smiling from the way the words left her mouth. “But I won’t allow you to wallow in pity forever.”

Esme released me from the hug and reappeared four yards away from me, the expression on her perfect face stern. “So take the time you need to process how you’re feeling. But only be alone if you need to be. Don’t let yourself be lonely. That’s very important...You know where we will be.”

With that, she was gone.

I couldn’t understand why I was so inconsolable. Of course, I valued her words and the sentiment. My family’s understanding and support were wonderful to have, but I couldn’t shake the upheaval the boy’s blood had wreaked on my thoughts. It seemed to me a cruel joke, that after all these years of so naturally adjusting to this life, I now experienced the true, macabre consequences of this form. Would I have traded the ease that had accompanied me until now if it meant I’d never have experienced a magnetism as strong as the sweet scent that lingered just beneath the Masen boy’s frail skin? Would I have chosen to struggle more the entirety of my existence if it meant I’d have avoided the ferocity of that moment in my suddenly not so banal biology class? Maybe I would have.

This must be some kind of punishment from some god somewhere. Why else would I experience such effortlessness only to be met with an unendurable, unassailable call to reject everything good about my existence? I never gave much thought to religion in either of my lives. I suppose that after I’d been changed, it’d seem like a far more interesting subject because what could be the implications of an existence such as mine? Did my being a monster provide more validity to the existence of a god? If mythological evil creatures plagued the earth, then couldn’t a supernatural deity who created the universe exist as well? Or did my being a monster provide evidence that there was no god – because who could create such a despicable creature?

It had been far more evocative a topic to Carlisle who had spent much of his life after his transformation pondering these questions, but in all truthfulness, it never bothered me much. I adjusted well to this life. I understood why I was changed and didn’t long for my humanity the way some of my other family members did. Of course, I hated the risk I posed to human life, but my conscience felt clear as my record remained clean. I never endured any self loathing for what I was.

Only now did I question myself. Only now did I wrestle with the ramifications of my immortality. Only now did I feel in its entirety – I had experienced strong desires for human blood before but never of this caliber – the true shame of lusting for the end to someone’s precious life. Only now did I truly feel like the monster I was.

I was finally recognizing the wrongness within me.

I was mistaken to feel resentful and angry with the human boy. He did not make me this way. I had always been this way. I had just been blind to the fact for all these years. I had been naive.

He was entirely innocent and deserving of the life he would live. One where his future would not be stolen in a high school biology classroom as his body emptied. One where he would graduate and go on to better schools. One where he would have a successful job in something he was interested in that provided him with purpose. One where he would meet someone smart and kind. One where he would marry, have a family, and grow old surrounded by his progeny.

I suddenly experienced a strange sensation. A feeling I hadn’t felt in years – jealousy. Though I’d never envied a human before, I envied the possibilities this boy had. I never mourned the choices that were no longer available to me. I graduated countless times. I held countless jobs. I felt fulfilled in providing to the world with our philanthropy and loving my family. In that, I found purpose. I didn’t care to have children.

But did I care to experience romantic love?

I loved romance, but I never minded that it was unattainable to me beyond the pages of a novel. I’d met other vampires, but were the odds in my favor to find a soulmate amongst such a rare kind? I didn’t think so, and I was fine with that. I was happy in my solitude. At times, I was the odd one out in my coupled-off family, but I had often felt like the odd one out in my previous life. It wasn’t a new experience, so I never cared. But in thinking of this human boy’s life, free of monsters, free of me, I came to the realization that unlike myself, he could have anyone he wanted. He was not bound by anything other than maybe his own inhibitions. He had the luxury of choice in every aspect of his life but also in love. He had simply the luxury of love itself.

Why were these thoughts coming to me now? I had so much time to ponder my existence, and suddenly this encounter had me inexplicably considering inessential things.

I take back my previous feelings about the boy’s innocence. He is stupid and culpable. He’s inspiring stupidity in me.

He’s very fortunate that I have a conscience. I could just as easily murder him in irritation of the havoc his existence is inflicting on my life.

I refocused my thoughts on the scenery before me, longing for the previous morning where I had watched the verdant motion of the trees outside the car window after Emmett’s silly destruction of the novel I still had yet to fix. Somehow, it seemed like a long time ago.

In that memory, I eventually found a small moment of peace again.

No painted eyes could haunt me here.

And yet, I was left with a sense of uneasiness, feeling as if my life thus far had been a long exposition, and I had just encountered the inciting incident. I was feeling – though I’d been irrevocably altered once before – as if something would soon change me forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> we all know bella wouldn't yeet off to alaska like edward's dramatic ass would hehe
> 
> also as i am reediting this to post here, i am utilizing my new mypurmist steam inhaler that my boyfriend spent $100 on as a surprise gift bc i have been cursed in this life with severe allergies. when he said he had a surprise for me, i thought it was going to be something cute like an amiibo card of cookie for my animal crossing. this is also nice. but google "mypurmist steam inhaler ariana grande" to get some imagery of how nerdy i currently look.


	3. Observations

My stomach tightened in strange, foreign ways as if it could fall into my abdomen at any moment. There was a vague familiarity about the sensation, and after some thought, I realized that this was something like the faded memory of what anxiety did to my body as a human. It was an entirely different feeling in my unchanging form. Far more unnerving.

I felt silly and small walking directly behind Emmett and Jasper while Rose and Alice flanked me. We were positioned like some ridiculous protection detail, though the danger – myself – was in the center of the defense. I longed to curl into a ball on the floor of my room, but I was far too stubborn to spend another day at home avoiding school like a coward.

At the same time, I was not stubborn enough to have the confidence to completely sell my bravery to my overprotective siblings, so I allowed them to hover more than I would have liked. It felt unnecessary, but I wasn’t entirely sure whether or not I could trust myself yet.

Once we were a few yards from the old building of my first class, I halted our formation.

“Alright, I’m fine. Thanks. I’m sure that didn’t look weird at all,” I grumbled sarcastically, moving forward to step between my brothers at a slow, human pace.

They all held their positions, hesitant.

“This is getting ridiculous.” Their vigilance displayed no signs of relaxing. “I swear that I am fine! Alice?” Irritated, I snapped my head around to examine her vacant expression, hoping she’d foresee something that would support my claim.

“It looks as if...everything will be okay,” she smiled a brilliant, annoyingly over-encouraging smile when the light returned to her golden eyes.

I repressed a sigh of relief to keep from exposing my own concern and setting off any alarms as a result. “See? Another obnoxiously perfect, boring day.”

In case they continued their reluctance to move aside, I walked around rather than through the frontline.

“And I don’t require any further chaperoning. If Alice sees anything, I trust that she’ll take the preventive measure of biting my head off,” I whispered too faint and fast for human ears as I entered the classroom.

“Exactly,” Alice smugly agreed, making me smile for the first time today.

I had been wrong earlier. There was nothing obnoxiously perfect nor boring about this day. I spent the majority of my morning classes hyperalert, over-examining every noise from the clicking of ants on the aged tile to the trickle of a raindrop sliding down the rooftop to the sneeze of a student on the other side of the school grounds. I overthought every movement of air that brushed against my skin, nervously awaiting the circulation that would carry his irresistible scent and once again derail my self control.

Of all my ongoing polarities, I preoccupied myself with deciding between the choices of the simplest question: should I hold my breath or should I not? It would be irrational to think I could deprive myself of a sense of smell forever. Of course, I was physically capable as my body didn’t require oxygen, but I’d need to speak in school eventually. That would require inhalation.

And then the boy would die.

With how incoherent my resolve had been at first encounter with my unfortunate biology partner, was it worth the risk? On the contrary, would the memory of his scent allow me to anticipate the upheaval, and therefore equip me with the mental preparation to withstand more effectively if I did choose to breathe? Would the potential desensitization if I allowed myself this provide him a better chance to live?

I couldn’t decide, so I endured long stretches of both. Instinctually, I preferred the flow of air to my lungs, but with every breath, it seemed I was inhaling more apprehension and exhaling none of it. I was relieved that the air was diluted with the scent of the other students. Of course, if I wanted to, I could find him. I could track him down easily with the treacherously appealing aroma perfectly recollected in my mind guiding me towards him…

I decided against breathing again. I wished that I could decide against thinking as well.

In the duration between periods, I noticed that I could easily locate a member of my family lingering casually in my peripheral vision as I headed to my next class. Casually, if their schedules had qualified them to walk along the same route that I did. That was rarely the case. The distant escort was far more awkward than the tightly knit huddle from the morning.

Rosalie’s expression seemed embarrassed during her surveillance of me, and I hoped it was because she trusted that I could handle this and was simply fulfilling a duty asked of her by the remaining members of my family.

Who had been the one to ask the others to keep an eye on me? Esme?

I didn’t mind when Jasper had been nearby. I never saw him directly, but recognized his footfall and even felt grateful for the sudden deluge of peace that comforted me briefly.

Emmett was particularly irritating. Although I knew he felt concern for me, I also knew he found the situation slightly comical. I didn’t appreciate the suspicion that he may be mocking me as he watched me responsibly walk to my next class without any attempts to escape his supervision and hunt down any unsuspecting teenage children. 

Alice didn’t care to conceal herself during her passing period shift, so she waited outside the door to walk alongside me to a lesson we shared together.

I hadn’t crossed paths with the boy yet, so when this morning’s bodyguard configuration began to form on the way to lunch, I said nothing, knowing that it would be far more prudent to have the guarantee that four other vampires would stop me if I made any mistakes when I first saw him again.

The bizarre sensation in my abdomen returned, intensified greatly by the certitude that I’d face the object of my avoidance soon.

Once we had purchased our lunch for appearances, I kept my head down and my lungs empty as we settled into our regular table, buying myself a few more moments of forced oblivion to his presence – as if I could ever be oblivious to his presence again.

I tried to build up my confidence as I studied the patterns in the plywood of the cafeteria table under the laminate. Surely, I would fare much better this time around now that I knew what to expect, wouldn’t I? I hadn’t succumbed the first time, so why should I the second? Besides, as an added measure, I was overly satiated from the hunting trip Esme and I embarked on once the boys had returned. The odds were far better.

I had stayed home a couple of days when Esme and I had finished. My conversation with Carlisle greatly encouraged me, and so my mood began to improve. It wasn’t enough for Emmett to feel satisfied when he easily overtook me in our rematch, suspecting that I wasn’t giving him my full attention, but it was still an improvement.

Today, it had been a week since I’d last seen the boy.

“Edward Masen is walking in,” Alice cautioned. I froze in place, halting the loop my pointer finger was tracing over the grain of the table.

“Nobody look at him!” I hissed with the air from my last breath, nearly inaudible. I halted the sensation of breathing.

“Why would we look at him? You know, you really insult our intelligence sometimes.”

I didn’t look up to see what repelling piece of food I hurled at Emmett’s head. “What intelligence?” I mumbled. I forced myself to continue tracing loops over the wood. 

“Relax, Bella,” Rosalie laughed. “Oh, he’s looking this way.”

My eyes narrowed as I finally glanced up to see Rose turn her face away from the cafeteria back to me indulgently, her angelic face feigning innocence.

Some of my edginess began to ease. I eyed Jasper suspiciously.

His lips pulled into a guilty half-smile.

“I’m really growing tired of everyone acting as if I’m a sideshow today,” I sighed, releasing the last of my oxygen supply.

“You’re  _ always _ a sideshow,” Emmett corrected, baiting me.

My siblings couldn’t resist laughing before the expression on my face silenced them.

Cautiously, I took a deep breath.

I was fortunate; the air near me hadn’t been tainted with any hint of his scent. I inhaled mostly the wonderful fragrance of my family and the slightly tempting aroma of high school students, though it now seemed far less mouthwatering by comparison to what I came across last week.

“I  _ will _ commit murder today,” I promised, gritting my teeth. “Now, whether that murder results in  _ your _ death or the kid’s is entirely up to you.”

My curly haired brother laughed. “Alright! Finally some action again!”

Rosalie’s features were apologetic.

“Em, I’d back off if I were you… she’s serious. I see…” Alice made a show of closing her eyes and placing her slender fingertips on either side of her forehead. “I see… a pyre…”

Even I couldn’t keep myself from laughing.

“Are you kidding me? She’s way too distracted lately. I could take her down  _ easy _ today.”

“It says a lot that my distraction translates to easiness for you,” I taunted before suddenly feeling as if I was being watched.

“Then I correct myself. I could take you down easy  _ any day. _ ”

Not wanting to waste any more of my precious air supply as a precaution, I simply rolled my eyes.

“Bella definitely has an edge with her frustration lately. I wouldn’t be so confident,” Jasper warned, smiling wickedly.

“You willing to bet on Bella?” My brawnier brother challenged cockily.

“Absolutely.”

“Anybody else?”

Alice opened her mouth to speak, but Emmett rapidly cut her off. “You don’t count, pipsqueak. You cheat.”

He turned to face Rosalie. “What about you, babe?”

She bit her lip remorsefully to keep from giggling. “Bella.”

Emmett scoffed before a large, cocky grin spread on his face. “Fine. Whatever. I don’t need any of you.” He leaned back in his chair, his biceps bulging as he flamboyantly rested his massive arms behind his head. “Candy from a baby. Good luck, Bella!”

But I was no longer paying attention. I had already fallen victim to the first irresistibility I’d face today.

Following the suspicion that I was the object of a gaze belonging to the same eyes that had haunted me the past week, I turned my focus towards the cafeteria.

There he sat with some of the more popular students – though if recognition constituted popularity in high school, then all of the children in this lightly populated student body were popular – trying to appear deceptively over-interested in the sleeve of his beige, expensive-looking sweater. His jaw was tight, highlighting his prominent bone structure.

I guess maybe I could understand to some degree why this irrelevant boy had sent the male-interested student body into a frenzy. By their kind’s standards, he must be considered of above-average attraction. But with his strange shade of reddish-brown hair, wouldn’t that be considered a flaw? Didn’t humans have some kind of teasing prejudice towards gingers? Though it was ridiculous, I had the urge to apply the methodology of attraction based on the golden ratio to his face simply out of curiosity.

“Bella Cullen is staring at you,” the student next to him, Naomi, whispered in shock.

“So?” The boy dismissed.

I was taken aback by how flippantly he disregarded the mention of me. Had something in my leaving offended him? What would make him think my absence concerned him?

Emmett found his response hilarious.

“Damn! I’m glad someone can put you in your place!” He guffawed.

I turned to scowl at him.

“A pyre…” Alice teasingly resumed her poor fortune teller impression, her fingers again on her temple.

A warm smile spread across my face, and as a result of my family’s stupid banter, I found myself finally feeling calmer.

My smile dropped immediately when I heard the boy sharply breathe in.

“Relax,” Rosalie reminded me, her brilliant eyes reassuring.

I nodded, though I felt my face contort in pain and stress.

“You’re looking sick, Bella,” she accused.

“Do you wanna leave?” Emmett offered, his amusement having vanished.

Jasper raised an eyebrow, sensing my building emotion.

“No!” I snapped, exasperated. It took everything in me to keep from slamming my hands on the table. Now was not the time to destroy public property.

“She’ll be fine, really. No, great, actually. I’d say we’re not helping, but I wonder if her frustration with us is what’s strengthening her resolve,” Alice grinned. “Her future keeps getting clearer. If anything, maybe he’ll stay alive just so she can prove a point.” 

Everyone joined my dark-haired sister in her melodic laughter.

I’d had enough of lunch for today.

I rose from the table, carrying my full tray.

“Oh, don’t leave, Bella! Where are you going?” Rose asked.

“I’m going-”

“-to the biology classroom,” Alice finished for me.

“You’re all particularly vexing today, so please don’t follow me. But if you hear a massacre of screaming children, feel free to join.”

“Shall I call Carlisle and Esme? It’d be poor manners to not extend an invitation if we’re slaughtering the townsfolk.”

“Oh, yes, of course. Let’s go out with a bang,” I frowned, speaking quietly enough to where only my family could hear, dumping my tray in the garbage can and exiting the cafeteria.

I felt his eyes on me the entire time.

I was fortunate that Mr. Molina wasn’t in his classroom during his lunch break. I had no desire to attempt civil conversation that would make the both of us uncomfortable. The door was unlocked, though that didn’t matter much.

I sat at my usual seat, neatly placing my books atop the lab table. Closing my eyes, I distracted myself for the remainder of the lunch hour by focusing on the flux of unchanged oxygen expelling from my lungs and the thrum of raindrops against the roof slowly becoming the feather-soft flutter of snowflakes.

Once my peers began to file into the room, I uncomfortably suspended my breathing once again. I listened to the rowdy sound of the footsteps, wondering which would be the boy’s, hoping to distinguish them from the rest as if they’d be any different.

Shortly after the cheerful whistle of the lively biology teacher sounded the room as he entered, I became aware of a sturdy footfall approaching my table.

Though I couldn’t smell him, I knew at once it was the boy as the heat of his body warmed the air around me. Nobody else in this classroom would dare get as close unless they were condemned to sit in the chair beside me as he was. Even the temperature enveloping my skin was enough to warrant venom to pool in my mouth. 

I restrained myself from sighing aloud at the oncoming war that would rage within me, refusing to waste the oxygen I had stored.

Though the responsible and kind action to take would be to introduce myself as to not make myself even more distinguishable from the other humans with unwarranted ignorance and hostility, I continued to face forward with my eyes closed, my forehead puckering.

My eyes snapped open as he noisily settled into his seat, carelessly spilling his books across his side of our lab table.

After a moment, I decided I wouldn’t want to be held accountable for potential whispers about my family, so it’d be better to say something.

Just as I was about to speak, turning my head in his direction, he surprised me by speaking first.

“Hello,” the boy greeted me quietly, his smile charming and polite. His green eyes were soft and wise, full of some meaning I couldn’t decipher. I listened to the beating of his heart, trying to detect if the rhythm would expose any fear. I never needed to blink, but habitually my eyes fluttered rapidly as I processed the shock that this human had the bravery to speak to me first. Habitually, because of the years I’d adjusted to mimicry of human responses and expressions, but the action was still wrong. Much too fast. I wondered if he had picked up on the blurred motion. “You’re back.”

I didn’t know how to respond, so I simply agreed. “Yes.”

I turned away again, forgetting that I had intended to share my name out of courtesy. My brain was much too full of distracting thoughts. Here my temptation was willingly conversing with me. Was he mad? Where was his innate sense of self-preservation? He should be recoiling away from the proximity as I was, though for different reasons. I could easily talk him into walking away with me to his death. For both of our sakes, it’d be preferable to keep our interactions to a minimum. How much acquaintanceship did biology partners really require?

As the teacher wrote out today’s objective on the chalkboard, it seemed it’d require more acquaintanceship than I’d like – or that the boy could afford.

“My name is Edward Masen.” He spoke with a calculated, inviting voice. “You’re Bella Cullen,” he continued when I hadn’t replied.

I nodded stupidly, refusing to look anywhere but ahead of me. It was both wonderfully and terribly warm next to his body heat. I swallowed the venom that did nothing to quench the ever-present thirst.

“I take it you’re not too enthused to have me as a biology partner,” he chuckled gently, his eyes intrusively still focused on the side of my face.

I frowned at this unpleasant assumption that was absolutely spot-on.

“I wouldn’t take it personally,” I stated gingerly, trying to speak in a voice he wouldn’t find frightening.

“The expression on your face last week seemed a very personal reaction,” he pressed, an edge to his voice despite his attempt to say this casually.

He had noticed.

I hadn’t thought it’d be possible to feel any more uneasy.

“I was sick,” I defended myself lamely.

“And now you’re feeling better?”

“Not particularly.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw his thick eyebrows slightly pull upwards at my response. His eyes continued to study me, full of that puzzling emotion.

Whatever his reaction meant I couldn’t focus on now even with my simultaneously thinking brain. I was out of air, and the fear that accompanied the thought of inhaling to speak again was overwhelming.

My body tensed for the brutality, my muscles frozen as I turned my head even further away to quickly breathe through my mouth so as to avoid his scent.

The potency was just as painful as it had been last week, a wrecking ball of desire desiccating my burning throat as the taste of the tainted air settled onto my tongue.

I was a creature of ice brimming with fire.

I wrestled for coherency, desperately trying to compose myself again as Mr. Molina explained today’s assignment, rescuing me from the agony of conversation.

Today’s lab required working together alongside your table partner.

I hadn’t experienced such a series of bad luck since I had been human.

The boy – or I suppose I should refer to him by his first name now that introductions had occurred – turned to face me again once our teacher finished instruction. He smiled a crooked smile. “Ladies first, partner?”

“Why don’t you begin?” I offered, utilizing all of my strength to uncomfortably half-smile in return.

He paused for a moment, his eyes suspended on my face. It was the first time he had lost some of his inexplicable coolness. The pace of his heartbeat – a painful reminder of his fragility – sped up. Had I done something to frighten him?

“If you wish,” he recovered, slightly shaking his head, his tousled bronze hair swaying with the movement. While I was mystified as to what his reaction meant, most of my thought was absorbed with relief that I had breathed prior to this action. I had no doubt that it would have sent the craving slamming into me like a wall of cement. I tried to ignore the appealing flush of a subtle, light pink that briefly colored the skin beneath his cheekbones.

He reached for the shabby microscope on the table along with a slide from a small cardboard box.

“Prophase,” he announced after a very brief examination.  
“Can I look?” I asked.

“You don’t trust me?” He smirked as he pulled his face away from the equipment.

“No,” I replied.

He laughed at my genuine answer, and instinctually, I reached to stop his hand from removing the slide.

It was an idiotic mistake. How many feelings of violence could I experience? This severity was different but no less overpowering. The heat of his skin burned mine electrically as if I had been struck by lightning. The sensation shot through my arm, and I was ablaze like a live wire.

“Sorry,” I blurted, grinding my razor-sharp teeth together. I didn’t want to see his reaction to the strikingly chilling temperature of my granite-like skin, so I buried my face in the microscope, looking through the eyepiece, allowing my long, dark hair to spill across the table as a wall between us.

“Prophase,” I whispered. He had been correct.

The thirst was ferocious and the charge in my body exorbitant. I concentrated very intensely on filling out the lab sheet, writing our answer along the first line.

He silently switched the slide to the next, and I cringed, wondering how my touch had felt to him.

“Anaphase,” I whispered again after a peek through the eyepiece.

“Do you mind if I look?”

Surprised, I glanced up to meet his expectant viridescent gaze.

“You don’t trust me?” I repeated his words from earlier. As if I could be incorrect.

“Definitely not,” he smiled wryly, humor lighting up his irises before leaning in to examine the slide.

I couldn’t help but smile too.

“You shouldn’t,” I joked, though partly I was unable to restrain myself – stupidly, as if I could truly be honest with him – from providing him a fair warning.

He paused, his hand on the tube of the microscope, turning his face towards me. His eyebrows pulled together inquisitively, but his lips curved upwards slightly. “And why is that?”

I glanced away, turning my attention back to the sheet of paper, desperately trying to think of anything other than his blood.

When it became clear I wasn’t willing to provide an answer, he resumed his observation. “Next slide?”

He reached for the following slide, and I dropped it into his hand, avoiding contact with his skin this time. 

We continued the lab with minimal conversation, sliding the microscope between us and double checking the answers. I wrote the majority of the answers down, though he wrote a few at the end. His script was far more elegant than I was expecting from a teenage boy.

We were the first students to complete the lab while the rest of the class seemed to be struggling to properly identify the stages of mitosis. Maybe I should have hesitated longer in my examinations so we wouldn’t be left with so much remaining time for tension and uncomfortable silence to fill. I periodically took excruciating breaths, hoping to build up more resistance.

I noticed a sandy blonde student – I think her name was Sara – at a table diagonal from us overly engrossed in making continual glances back this way. I was shocked to catch her shooting me a dirty look, unaware anyone felt antagonistic towards me.

I wondered if she was interested in Edward. I found myself amused by the thought she could be developing resentment for that reason. If only she knew the kind of interest the boy held for me.

Mr. Molina made his rounds to check on the students’ progress. When he saw our lack of activity, he approached our table.

“Miss Cullen,” he began, looking over our answers through his glasses. “You didn’t want to share your microscope with our new student?”

I withheld a smile, unused to anything remotely related to chastisement in classes I didn’t share with Emmett, though even in those lessons we rarely got in trouble.

“Actually, Mr. Molina. She was very accommodating. We both identified the slides and double checked each other’s answers. Bella was just our primary scribe.”

“Ah,” our teacher nodded, still skeptical.

“I’ve done this lab before,” Edward shrugged. “I was always in advanced placement programs at my other schools.”

I processed this information, unsurprised by the confirmation of his intelligence. The assertiveness of his words also confirmed my suspicions that he was pretentious.

“Wonderful,” the man smiled, his tan face impressed. He pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “It’s a good thing the two of you are partners. You should have raised your hand to let me know you completed the lab. Let me go grab the golden onion, so I can present it to you-”

“That’s alright. We don’t need the award, prestigious as it may be,” Edward chuckled. “You can let some other students have it. I don’t mind missing out on the bonus points.”

“And you, Miss Cullen?”

“I’m fine,” I smiled reassuringly.

“Very well. Good work,” he left to check on another table. As he turned, I took advantage of the fresh gush of uncorrupted air that flew in my direction.

After a moment, Edward spoke again, slightly leaning towards me. Was this stupid man lacking a sense of danger?

“The kids here have a lot of commentary about your family.”

Of course I knew that to be true, but I was taken aback with his bluntness. “I’m sure they do.”

“So what led you to move here?” He asked too innocently, clearly attempting to uncover secrets.

“I would have thought the students here would have provided you with satisfactory gossip.”

“I’d rather hear the story from you.”

My eyes narrowed slightly, trying to discern the motivation behind his interest. Was it simply curiosity or was there more? “Esme, my oldest sister, prefers life in a small town… Shouldn’t I be the one questioning your reasons for moving here?”

Despite my harsh tone, he smiled his crooked smile. “You’re the first student who’s not expressed much interest in me.”

I shrugged stiffly, returning my attention back to staring blankly at the front of the room.

“Well, other than your incomprehensible opposition to having me as a partner on my first day. I’d say that qualifies as interest.”

“I already told you I was sick.”

“Oh, that’s right,” he conceded, though something in his tone implied he didn’t completely believe me. “...You said  _ oldest _ sister...I thought the other two weren’t your siblings.”

I froze.

“I consider Rosalie and my cousin Alice to be my sisters as well.”

He nodded, taking in the information.

“So, are you going to ask?” He asked after a moment.

“What?” I snapped, turning to him again.

“You’re not questioning my reasons for moving here?” He grinned.

“No,” I retaliated, growing irritated. I should attempt to be warm and pleasant the way a responsible Cullen would, but I was already too preoccupied with the terrible physical ways he was affecting me that I cared little for the mental ways.

“Oh,” he laughed softly. “Am I annoying you?”

I could tell he was used to being considered charismatic by the way my indifference amused him.

“No,” I lied and he chuckled again, not believing me. I turned to meet his gaze and found myself trapped there. His eyes were warm and captivating. My frustration nearly evaporated. “Though you  _ are _ very much arrogant.” The grin didn’t leave his face at my words. He seemed appreciative of my honesty. “I’m more annoyed with myself than anything.”

“Why?”  
_“_ Okay, _now,_ you’re annoying me.” I turned away to inhale, pausing to let the desire simmer until I could control myself once more.

“Then I’ll leave you alone. I should know better than to have bothered you when you were clearly in a bad mood.”  
“A bad mood?”  
“Yes, I saw you when you were at lunch before you left. It seemed your family was provoking you. You looked as if you were about to fight the bigger guy.”

“My brother, Emmett.”

“Emmett,” he nodded, trying out the name for recognition. “Something tells me you could take him,” he teased, and I surprisingly found myself smirking.

“I don’t imagine you’ll share what’s causing you to be in a bad mood...but can I ask why you were staring at me?”

“Are you always this direct?” I asked, exasperated.

“Not always. I just find you particularly difficult to read.”

“You must be a very good reader then.” If he considered me a difficult case to decipher but nevertheless made the astute observations that he did, he must be immensely perceptive, a factor that made this situation immeasurably worse.

“Usually.” He smiled his crooked smile again.

After a minuscule measure of time, I responded. “No, you cannot ask.”

“I didn’t think so,” Edward’s smile grew into a beam, revealing near-perfect, white teeth.

“Why do you care?” I demanded, the thirst festering around the edges of my resolve.

At this question, his face dropped into a thoughtful frown. “That’s a very good question.”

Though I unexpectedly found myself engrossed in the meaning of this response and the answer behind the question, I was interrupted as Mr. Molina called for the class’s attention. He overdramatically presented the golden onion to a pair composed of a ridiculous class clown of a boy and his quieter female partner. The boy enthusiastically received the silly prize as the rest of the class hooted and hollered. Mr. Molina cut the boy off as the kid began to address his peers, notifying him that the award didn’t require an acceptance speech.

But my attention was absorbed in something other than the class shenanigans.

Suddenly, I was fascinated in the boy’s fascination. Of course, we were interesting. That was undeniable. Our kind was designed to draw in the curiosity of his kind. Everything about me – the sweet scent of my skin, the beauty of my features, the velvet sound of my voice – was intricately fashioned to bring him closer. It was enormously unjustified the abilities we were equipped with to trap and kill our prey. There was no abnormality in a human having interest in us. It happened often. When we moved to a new place, we expected the initial inquisitions, though eventually, they died down once our disinterest in fully assimilating into their community became clear. We became then simply a strange story about a strange family. Occasionally, a human would hold particular interest in us, overly intrigued in what we are. The differences between us were abundantly clear, but this particular human wouldn’t dismiss them for the comfort of preserving their carefully constructed world of normalcy like the others around them. It was a rarity for that kind of human to guess what we were correctly.

However, Alice would watch for us, and before they could, we’d vanish.

He might not be the particular human who guessed correctly, but what were the odds that this human, the human whose blood sang to me, would be the particular human who was too curious for their own good?

I was fascinated with this absurdity.

Must it be him who sees too clearly? Suddenly, despite his arrogance, his pretension, his invasiveness, I was curious about this human boy with too many questions.

The odds were towering above us both. Here was a human who unwittingly, perfunctorily threatened everything that made up the tiny niche of peace in this existence. Whatever the differential may be, I lusted more so for the blood in his veins more than I had for any blood. And because I refused to be a monster, this human boy would live. And because he would live, he’d be able to devote thought to his observations about me. Here was a human who was watching too carefully, noticing nothing consequential yet, but seeing enough to warrant caution about his surveillance. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was damned to expose us in some way. Either by taking his life or by being watched too closely.

And it was worse for him. If I made a mistake either way, we could clean up the mess left behind. After a few decades, the guilt would hopefully ease as it did for my siblings. But for him, here was a vampire whose previously impressively stable sense of self control was in incoherent disarray. Here was a vampire who had a desire seemingly tailored precisely for the scent he carried. Here was a vampire who had a sudden intrigue in why it was him, this intruding, annoying man of a boy, to be the one to weaken her. There’d be nothing for him if I made a mistake. No more life to live.

The best case scenario would be that I’d become a distant nightmare.

Why had we been placed on this earth if not to be a perfectly designed pair of predator and prey?

Perhaps it was kismet. Sickening, grotesque kismet.

Well, I would fight fate. I would not allow this boy to bother me any longer. He would not make a monster of me, and I would not be the cause for any suspicions that my family was anything other than what we portray ourselves to be.

He can ask all of his questions, but his scrutiny will eventually fade just as it did for most of the other humans like him.

His attempts to read and examine will be futile and disappointing.

I felt satisfied enough with my conclusions that I almost thought to smile victoriously and say goodbye to him, but the part of my brain still devoted to annoyance kept me still.

When the bell rang, I leaped from my seat and exited the classroom, leaving the boy behind.

Once I was a safe distance away, I thankfully breathed in the wonderful, clean air, even inviting the subtle burn from the students’ less appetizing blood that almost unnoticeably singed my nose and throat.

As I passed by the door of the Spanish class that was my next period, I yanked the arm of my brother Emmett, who had been waiting for me against the wall of lockers, dragging him alongside me, though no one watching would recognize my strength.

“How did it go?” He questioned as he began to freely follow beside me with no resistance.

I took advantage of his wariness.

“We have to clean up,” I whispered harshly in a low volume.

“Seriously!?” I sensed his body tense at the news. “Damn, Rose is gonna be pissed! I mean, I know she won’t be that upset with you, but-”

Before his light-speed prattle could go on any further, I cut him off.

“No, you dummy. I was joking. Do you smell a classroom of dead children?”

“Oh,” his nostrils flared slightly as he inspected the air. “No, but I thought maybe you really let loose and drained them all.”

I frowned. “I have to say this is one of our more morbid conversations.”

“We’re not going to Spanish class?”  
“No.” We exited the brick building into the grey, showery parking lot. The surrounding firs were heavily saturated in their shades of dark green against the clouded sky.

“Alright! I like when you break the rules! Where we going?” His right hand made a large fist that eagerly met the palm of his left hand as if we were about to embark on some adventure in which I required backup.

“The car?” I answered the obvious question as the rain poured down, soaking his curly hair, making it appear even blacker, drenching my dark hair into a slick waterfall against my back, and washing away the small amount of snow that had fallen an hour ago.

“The car?” He asked, confused. 

The rain smelled wonderful – like pine needles, spearmint, and eucalyptus. The droplets massaged my skin as they slid across the smooth surface, warm against the similar temperature.

Although I was free from Edward for now, a small part of me was reserved with some caution, so I crossed the parking lot at a slow pace as if we were being watched.

Once inside the vehicle, I placed a new disc into the CD player, unwilling to wrestle with the sometimes fickle bluetooth that often refused to surrender its connection to Rosalie’s cellphone. I was too impatient to continue life at a human speed right now.

I leaned the driver’s seat all the way back, and Emmett mirrored me in the passenger seat.

“So how was it really?” He asked.

“It was...odd,” I hesitated. “Better in some ways than last week but worse in others.”

“How’d he smell?”

“Just as good,” I groaned, placing my hands over my face as venom collected in my mouth at the memory.

“Well, that sucks,” Emmett chuckled, his long fingers tapping along to the rhythm of the song against the door of the car.

“I actually spoke to him today. Well, I guess he spoke to me.” I sighed, removing my hands from covering up my expressions.

“Oh, yeah? Did he explain his weird apathy about you? I got a real kick out of that.” My brother turned to face me, his head laying against the headrest, beaming widely, his snowy teeth blinding.

“That’s the thing – he’s  _ not _ apathetic about me. I’d do anything for some apathy! I don’t understand his reaction in the cafeteria, but that along with his line of questioning today-”

“Line of questioning?”

“Yes, he’s  _ very _ annoying!” I huffed.

“Sounds like you.”

“Keep in mind I promised murder today, and so far the boy made it away from me without so much as a scrape. You might not be so lucky.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes, and facing the car roof.

“Anyways, he was far too...overly invested. He noticed my expression last week. I didn’t think he’d assume that the way I left the classroom had anything to do with him, but he’s seemed to have made the connection somehow. Maybe that offended him in some way, but I’m concerned he’s...noticing more than he should. I’m not sure, but I have a bad feeling.”

“Humans have wondered about us before. He’s the new kid, so I mean, it makes sense he has questions.”  
“We are an odd looking group,” I agreed.  
“Hey, speak for yourself. I think the rest of us look pretty normal. Now, you...you’re a little funny looking.”

“Every day, I mourn that I have to spend eternity with you,” I snickered with him.

After a moment, I nodded. “I guess you’re right. His curiosity will fade.”

“And will your thirst, do you think?”

To that, neither of us had an answer.

“Hey, nobody died today.”

“Yet,” I reminded him.

“Yet,” Emmett agreed tauntingly. “I’m impressed you’ve lasted this long.”  
“What choice do I have!?” I demanded. “What would _you_ have done?”

He shrugged. “We all mess up. Sometimes a person just smells too good.”

“Your regard for human life today is really amazing,” I glared.

“Sorry I’m not the patron saint of human life,” he chuckled.

“Well, I’m not either,” I shrugged.

We fell into a comfortable silence, something unusual between us lately. This kind of moment was more common between Jasper and myself. With all the time we’d spent together in this eternity we share, we could of course spend long amounts of time quietly beside one another, but in the past few years, Emmett and I had been in another phase of mischief. Often, the quietness was a thing of suspicion, a warning that one of us was conjuring up some plan to mess with the other. But the two of us laid back in the car, entirely motionless, listening to the music and the rain.

An hour or so later when the bell signaling the end of school rang and students began filing out of the old buildings, I raised the seat back into its previous position and exited the car so that Rosalie could take her usual place behind the steering wheel.

Emmett remained in the passenger seat as I leaned against the car, the drizzling rain wetting my long hair again. 

Alice and Jasper arrived at the car first. In addition to the excited after-school chatter, I could hear what was stalling my other sister in the farthest building: Rosalie was in conversation with her psychology teacher, subtly encouraging the educator to branch from the syllabus, suggesting that another day with greater focus on analyzing physiological, cognitive, and behavioral strategies to combat psychophysiological reactions to stress and trauma would be very beneficial for the class and interesting information to learn. As if someone with a doctoral degree in psychology had anything to learn from a high school senior level psychology class.

“I saw a vision of you and Em skip class just to listen to music. Very angsty teenage human of you,” Alice grinned.

“I’m all about upholding our image,” I winked.

“You’re in a much brighter mood,” Jasper remarked.

“Well, just like my angsty teenage peers, I’m very eager to escape the hell that is high school and go home.”

“Hell, indeed,” Jasper half-smiled, intaking one last shallow breathful of the students’ scent as he slid into the back of the car.

“How can this be hell when I’m in the presence of an angel?” Alice sang to Jasper while Emmett and I groaned.

“Oh, shut up,” she chortled as she joined my brothers in the car. She gently – as to not destroy the interior – kicked the back of Emmett’s seat.

“I’d have said purgatory prior to last week,” I sighed wistfully.

As Rosalie wished the teacher a good night and exited her classroom, I listened for the willowy sound of her feet against the rain-soaked pavement.

In waiting for the appearance of her otherworldly face, I watched as the boy exited one of the brick buildings into the rainfall that had become a mist. The droplets falling into his tousled hair made it appear darker than it had looked under the fluorescence of the biology classroom. The moisture didn’t seem to bother him as he strode across the parking lot, not concerned with rushing to reach his car. A small, leather-bound journal was clenched in his right hand.

His vehicle was sleek, black, and much nicer than the other students’ cars. I wondered if his aggravating self assurance came from wealth.

It seemed he sensed the intensity of my stare. Edward looked up inquisitively, glancing around him. He waved to one of the students that called out to him before his green eyes settled on mine. Seeing that it was me who was gazing at him again, his face lit up in a smile. I could hear the softness as he laughed, shaking his head, and ducked into the drivers’ seat of his car. Our hold was lost until he readjusted the rearview mirror, and once again I could see the half moons of his enlivened eyes.

“Are you ready, Bella?” Rosalie asked, already turning the engine on. I had barely paid any notice to her approach.

“Yes,” I turned, sliding into the seat next to Alice.

Despite myself, the fact that something about my stare was of some ambiguous amusing importance to him had a smile pulling at the corners of my lips as well.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know, i know... we all love to roast edward. & we all love the idea of a nerdy little redhead. i KNOW. i'm sorry. but i think what we all forget sometimes is that our sweet, sensitive edward is also an annoying, smug, cocky know-it-all. and bella even in her newfound vampiric confidence, is still a quiet bookworm trying to mind her own business. u can fight me in my ask box. pls be gentle. also, i have adopted mr. molina of the film twilight because we do NOT support pedophiles. green is what? good. having a crush on ur high school student is what? weird & u should be fired immediately & should have NEVER been in a position where u work with children.


	4. Accidents

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> me to kae like two months ago when i started writing this fanfic: i don't want the plot to follow exactly along with smeyer  
> also me: *copy and pastes midnight sun*
> 
> i promise i'll deviate eventually hehe leave me alone <3

It may have been an overabundance of caution, but I decided to hunt again that night once my family had coupled off into their perfectly matched pairs, leaving me to be the odd one out again. I had no desire to be an audience to whatever acts occurred when their bedroom doors locked.

Prior to this, I spent some time in Carlisle’s study along with Jasper. We worked in silence for the majority of our few hours together; Jasper quietly organized some of our recent identity paperwork, making preparations for the next set of documents we would require in a few years, Carlisle read through a very thick medical textbook for research, and though it was months too early, I was distracting myself by preparing to file our family’s taxes for the last year.

Our finances had been in something of disarray since Christmas anyways. Of course, the mind-boggling accumulation of wealth our coven possessed never necessitated a budget, but we still ensured to balance the checkbook to keep account of our transactions. The holidays were always an ostentatious occasion in our household. We tried to make the most out of days deemed special as means to have something to look forward to in the years that began to blend together as our endless amount of time passed.

Other than Carlisle and Esme’s gifts, it was typically a tie between Alice and Emmett concerning who spent the most on presents. Whereas Alice was flamboyant in her gifting – there was hardly a holiday season where hundreds of designer label bags didn’t appear beneath the Christmas tree – Emmett was mischievous. Although he always included something we’d actually enjoy, he managed to come up with something entirely nonorthodox year after year. There was a year where for Hanukkah, he had presented me with a deed to a piece of land each day, and by the eighth day, I was the owner of a very small country.

Carlisle and Esme made sizable donations in our names every year to charities of our choice. It may have been too on the nose of me, but I always opted for something that’d impact children’s reading education. There were many small libraries across the world named after both my immortal and mortal parents.

Just as my jaw nearly dropped upon discovering the amount Emmett had spent this past year on Christmas alone, I had been interrupted by my brother.

_ “Bella,” Jasper hesitantly spoke to capture my attention. _

_ The look in Carlisle’s eyes as they flickered up from his book briefly and back to the page he’d been reading instantly made me feel suspicious. I knew Jazz would immediately detect as much. _

_ “Yes?” I’d answered, reserved. _

_ “We are always ready to move on at a moment’s notice, of course,” he’d begun, his tone cautious as he sampled the emotional climate. “However, I thought it might be best if we addressed how you’re feeling. Rather, we wanted to know  _ more _ about your feelings and thoughts on the current situation.” _

_ “Uh, you best of anybody understand how I’m feeling. What else is there for me to say? What are you getting at, Jazz?” I’d demanded, my focus no longer on the paperwork before me. _

_ “I just thought that while we make preparations for additional documents for the future, we should ask if you’ve given any thought to leaving early...as in leaving now.” _

_ “You want me to leave!?” I had almost shrieked, my voice rising a few octaves. Just as the shock had run through me, it’d been instantly sedated by my brother. _

_ “Of course not, Bella,” Carlisle assured, closing the textbook atop his ancient mahogany desk. “It was only a question. We’d be horribly unhappy – Esme, especially – to not have you with us. And if you wanted us to move along with you, we would do so.” _

_ “It was merely something for you to consider. A precaution. We wondered if perhaps providing you with the option might be beneficial bearing in mind how stubborn you are,” Jasper expressed, his words careful and his eyes vigilant. _

_ I had been shocked at what I was hearing. My eyes narrowed. _

_ “Me, stubborn? My tenacity is no match for Rosalie.” My adopted father had laughed in the middle of my response. “Really, I don’t understand where this is coming from.” _

_ “Bella, we don’t wish for you to leave us,” Carlisle had guaranteed me again. “Nor do we wish to move on from Forks so soon. Naturally, neither must happen. It is entirely your decision, and we would all support you. Needless to say, but I have complete faith in you. However, I don’t want for you to feel as though you cannot leave if this is too difficult. There is nothing to prove to any of us, nothing worth proving. Nothing worth endangering the boy. The boy will be gone in a year or two. So if it is the better option, I wanted to offer the idea for your consideration.” _

_ Jasper’s eyes had scrutinized my expression as he read the emotions, searching for some facial indication to explain what I’d felt. I couldn’t provide an explanation even if I’d tried. The idea of leaving emptied me, making me feel worn and hollow. _

_ “It was just a suggestion, Bella,” Jasper had repeated upon experiencing my inexplicable hurt secondhand, offering a tiny smile to soothe me. _

I’d absolutely miss my family. But that didn’t seem reason sufficient enough to match the level of anxiety and sadness that accompanied the idea of leaving Forks.

The boy would be gone in a year or two.

Carlisle’s words were just along the line of thoughts I’d had a week ago here in this forest.

I again felt bewildering sorrow for the life the boy would live without me. Rather, the life the boy would live that I could never live.

As I emptied another deer of its life source, I wondered about the question Carlisle had asked when I insisted upon staying.

_ “What holds you here?” _

How could I explain to them what I couldn’t explain to myself?

Carlisle and Jasper had been right to suggest I leave. What was another two years in this small town to me in this endless life? It was merely a blink of the eye, and yet the fact made me feel deeper in desperation to remain here. So little time left to unravel the mystery of the weird bronze-haired boy’s pervasive insight...

But the mystery was not of the same value as the boy’s life. That was true. Edward, no matter how smug and obnoxious, deserved the right to continue on without my presence beside him as a looming threat. I could never forgive myself if in my pride, my stubbornness, I hurt him.

There couldn’t be that much behind him anyways. I’d figure him out in less than a week and resume my previous boredom.

Or at least I would have, had he not been the one human whose blood was temptation enough to consider leaving Forks.

It was the right decision to make, and yet, there was that incomprehensible woe inside me again.

I’d have to say goodbye today. Not only to my family but to the boy too.

I didn’t have to leave Forks, but staying at home for two years avoiding Edward seemed like a depressing waste of time. I could travel or spend some time in Denali.

It was melancholic to look at the forestry surrounding me, knowing now I’d be leaving it behind. By the time the boy graduated, it might be time for our family to move on.

I would miss Forks and its shrouding cover of clouds.

As a human, I’d hated the rain and snow, the gloom and the grey.

As a vampire, the rainfall was freedom–a promise of a day not spent blanketed in darkness. The snow was a beautiful romanticization of that freedom. Once the threats of snow had been removed thanks to the lithe grace that corrected my above average human clumsiness, I could now appreciate the beauty of the water droplets crystallizing in the air, seeing every unique shape of the flakes as they fluttered softly down in an effortless dance.

Today, the snow was stiffened after having refrozen. The scenery was enveloped in ice, the trees and grass and rocks sparkling with glossy glass.

Yes, I would truly miss it.

How many times had I sat on this stone in the past week, so pensive and desolate, as I stared out at the icy river? Last time, I cared little to watch the hidden sunrise beside Esme because of how indifferent I’d become. Now, though I could recall the image perfectly, I regretted not cherishing the moment.

At least my family would no longer have to be an audience to my ineffectual stoicism. That was something of a positive.

A nimble whisper of tiny feet against the glazed over blades of grass made my head flick upwards in time to see Alice appear beside me as if she’d been sitting there all along. Tucked in her hands, she carried two neatly folded stacks of dark fabric.

“One last day?” She asked, attempting to smile for me, though her dark eyes and bleak tone betrayed her.

“Of course you’d see the second I decided. I didn’t even think about that,” I laughed once without real amusement.

“Yeah, you’re very off recently,” Alice gently nudged me, her smiling taking on more authenticity. “Your future’s all blurry and vague. I can’t make much sense of it. I can’t even see where you’re going.”

“I don’t know where I’m going yet,” I shrugged, growing more glum by the second.

“You know Jazz and I will come with you if you want,” she offered, freeing one of her hands to grab mine, gently squeezing my palm.

“Jazz is the one who suggested I go.”

Alice snarled, a hiss escaping her teeth. “I heard.”

“He was right. And I know you’d come, I know all of you would. But I don’t want to uproot everybody, and it’s not that long anyways.”

Her pixie face contemplated for a fraction of a second, looking as if she wanted to argue, but she then sighed, giving in. Her lips twisted into a pout.

“I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too,” I carefully fixed an unconvincing smile onto my face.

My sister rolled her eyes before pulling me into a hug.

“Get dressed. You can tell the others when you’re ready.”

Alice stood up, kissed the top of my head, and darted off to the house.

I tugged the clothes on my body without thinking much about what they looked like, crumpling the old clothes I’d worn into a ball.

On the way to school, we sat in silence. Though Jasper could sense the sadness emanating from Alice and I, she made good on allowing me to be the one to tell them. I could always trust Alice.

Once we’d arrived at school, my eyes searched for the growing familiarity of a pair of sage eyes. The last time we’d been in this parking lot, I’d begun to feel my spirit lifting again. It seemed funny that it was once again crashing down like the first day we had crossed paths.

Today would be the last time I’d see him.

I didn’t know how to feel about the fact. It seemed maybe sorrow was the emotion that’d define my entire morning.

The others left for their classes, but Alice remained by my side as I waited, our backs leaned against Rosalie’s day car.

I tried to avoid Alice’s doll-like eyes as she gave me somber, pleading glances, instead listening for the quiet hum of Edward’s car as it approached the Forks High School parking lot.

It was easy to detect. The majority of students at the school drove older, used cars passed down from parents and grandparents with noisier engines.

I braced for his arrival as the wheels turned onto the slick, icy pavement. I finally gave in to peeking at my sister’s face, but she no longer looked at me with devastation. Instead, her eyes glazed over in search of the future.

I wondered if she was watching my indecisiveness as I grappled with what to say. I knew this attachment to saying goodbye to the boy was bizarre. I didn’t owe him an explanation, but something in me wanted closure with the person who was the reason for my leaving Forks.

I comforted myself by thinking that of course in this neverending span of time I lived, any minute connection was of interest to me – just something to find absorption in. This odd relationship of unwilling predator and over-perceptive prey was just another intrusive thought to occupy my time.

His shiny black car rolled into view as he expertly parked a few spots diagonal from Rosalie’s car, cutting the engine swiftly. He seemed to be a confident driver. How old was he? Seventeen? Eighteen? He couldn’t have been driving for more than three to five years, but I was relieved he seemed far more trustworthy behind the wheel than some of the other students’ reckless driving. It was no wonder we’d had so many assemblies preaching responsible, defensive driving with the way these teenagers ineptly sped around the town. My human father had often complained about the kids’ injudicious carelessness around here.

I was somewhat pleased because with all of my effort to keep this boy alive so far, it’d be a true shame for his own thoughtlessness to lead to an untimely death.

He stepped out of the driver seat, combing a hand through his bronze hair that was striking today in contrast to the cloudy, grey sky and the thick, black fitted sweater he was wearing.

“Hey, Edward!” Sara, the sandy-haired girl from biology who had taken a surprising dislike to me, called from a group of girls for his attention.

He looked in the direction of her voice, offering a wave which resulted in giggles.

I scoffed, once again seeing humor in the absurdity of the effect he had on the student body. Did they not find any annoyance in the grating edge of self-importance that coated his boyish charm? Humans were so unperceptive. Well, I could grudgingly think of one exception.

As I watched him, peripherally I could see the confusion knitting Alice’s thin eyebrows together at my smirk in response to the exchange. The ridiculousness made me grin wider. It seemed a safe bet to say I’d lost my mind, just as my siblings probably suspected behind my back. Well, they wouldn’t have to witness my deepening insanity any longer.

Rather than give in to the sadness that ebbed at the edges of my thoughts, watching the boy this one last time was a rush of dopamine, so I allowed myself this one moment of fun.

It seemed somehow we both could sense when one was watching the other, because as I let out a laugh amongst my own inner turmoil and chaos, the boy looked over, his pretty green eyes meeting mine.

They were alight, brilliant, and amused, asking to understand the joke. His strong face of angular features that garnered the fan club of silly little girls seemed pleased to find my attention on him, to no surprise of mine. Of course his ego would be stroked. I laughed again, a twinkling sound that distracted a part of my mind as the supernatural lure of the noise reminded me once again of the differences between us. He was human, and I was something completely other than that.

He leaned down to open the door to the backseat and reach into the car, pulling out the same leather-bound journal I’d seen him carry before, his eyes never breaking our gaze. Edward raised an eyebrow, smug as ever, his expression a clear invitation for me to approach him.

Just as my unfeasibly fast brain began to consider the words I’d say and the pain that’d come with saying them and the proximity to the boy, three things happened instantaneously.

First, I’d nearly forgotten about my sister before Alice’s tiny hand gripped onto my arm violently, her grasp unbreakably steel.

_ “Bella!” _ She hissed, the words a cry of warning as horrified air whooshed out of her lips in a gasp.

Second, I’d grown frigid as the implication of what she might have seen hit me until the shrill squealing of a van rounding the corner onto the parking lot at a negligent speed sent another shock through me. The angle the van’s tires hit the ice at was sending the large vehicle skidding, spinning in an unstoppable trajectory that would result in the destruction of the sleek, black car, the very car Edward still leaned into as his eyes finally left my face to discover the source of the noise.

It was only seconds before the van would crush him – crush and mangle his body to death.

Third, bent over as he was still straightening up from his reach into the backseat, his bewildered sage eyes flickered between the large van inevitably barreling towards him and my terror-filled face.

It was unacceptable. Idiotic. Careless. Moronic. Irresponsible and deeply selfish. But without another thought, I threw myself across the parking lot between the van and the boy.

Lifting Edward like a ragdoll, cradling his lanky legs to his chest, I launched us through the open door of the backseat just as the van made impact with his car, slamming the door shut into my back, the metal pressing and molding into the shape of my body with a groan as the motion sent us forward to crash into the car parked two spaces beside Edward’s, the glass of the window fracturing into thousands of glistening shards that I desperately shrouded him from.

_ “Holy! Fucking! Shit!” _ I cried out as I kicked open the door on the opposite side, sending it flying off its hinges into the car we were about to collide with beside us, throwing us flying out through the opening before we could be sandwiched in the wreckage, all the while begging to god or any deity that the glass of the imploding windows hadn’t reached any part of Edward’s skin to expose the blood beneath. Now was not the time to test my self control any further.

I’d crashed us into the pavement, carefully holding Edward beneath me. The warmth of his entire body pressed into mine made me painfully aware of how it burned my skin. One of my hands supported his head while the other held all of my weight off of him, and I was terrified of his fragility. Would my actions alone be what killed him? To my consolation, amongst the cacophony, I could hear the thunderous beat of his heart. Once I’d yanked him through the car, his legs had flown out wildly, stretching out again.

The van alongwith Edward’s car continued to bend and shriek as they warped into new grotesque shapes, smashing into the other car parked a space away from Edward, the friction finally slowing the accident to a stop.

The rest of the glass splintered off in a grating, violent shatter. My hand fluttered to block the stray pieces threatening to hit the boy beneath me, sending the fragments ricocheting back into the frame of the vehicles, denting the metal further like microscopic bullets.

Only seconds had passed, and I’d moved too fast for anyone to have detected any of my movements, but as I finally looked down severely into the eyes of the boy below me, as part of my brain registered immediate relief that he seemed to be unharmed by both myself and the wreckage, the other part of my brain registered the wide, astounded viridescent bewilderment of someone who’d seen everything.

I’d cursed again through my teeth, horrified with my actions, as the students witnessing the accident began to scream in panic. My forehead puckered as my eyebrows shoved together in torment.

What had I done? The risk I’d compromised my family with now was nothing in comparison to the exposure that’d have threatened us had I just murdered Edward Masen the very first day I’d seen him. The risk I’d placed Edward in as he stared wildly at my face beneath me was realer than it had ever been as his breath, warm and sweet, enticed me even without my inhaling his scent. The risk I’d placed myself in had never been greater as, though he looked unmaimed, my actions could have potentially damaged him far more than the van would have, which would only result in decades of deep self loathing for the harm I’d have inflicted.

The panicking footsteps clumsily sliding along the ice towards us meant we only had seconds before the other students discovered me here. Had they witnessed my materialization and supernatural maneuvers as well as Edward may have?

Somehow, it didn’t feel as important as my desperation that the boy beneath me was truly okay.

I knew my face betrayed my agony, so with great effort, I softened my features, though the pucker between my eyebrows remained.

Fiercely, I peered into the intense shock of his pretty face only inches from mine surrounded by a canopy of my long, dark hair.

“Edward,” I asked critically, my voice almost pleading. “Are you alright?”

“Never better,” he responded, though he blinked rapidly, disoriented from the trauma of the past minute.

The solace in hearing the sound of his voice was almost dizzying, and a manic, hysteric giggle escaped from my lips as I basked in the intoxifying relief at his sarcasm. Reluctantly, I sucked in air through my teeth. The scent of his blood was just as dizzying, if not more so, on my tongue, but I embraced the burning pain almost blithely. The blood wasn’t fresh, so it seemed I’d managed to protect him successfully, but whether or not it had been as thorough as I hoped, I’d need Carlisle to examine him internally for damage.

“Okay,” I breathed out. “I’m going to move away from you now. Stay still, and be very careful.”

Gently with as much care as I could, I laid his head down along the concrete, and lifted my body from shielding him. I scooted away, distancing myself from him, the glass clinking against the other pieces on the ground beneath me as I moved to lean against the misshapen trunk of his car.

“How-?” Edward began to prop himself up on his elbow.

“Edward,” I cautioned him sharply, cutting off the question that sobered my internal celebration at his well being.

Slowly – in effort to re-immerse myself into something more believably human – I crawled back over to where he laid, and softly pushed his upper body back onto the frozen ground.

“I said stay still,” I snapped, assertively but delicately grabbing his face to force his head to rest against the pavement. My fingertips were alight at the touch as if they’d been set on fire. I moved again, this time positioning myself to sit on the heels of my feet with my hands resting on my knees behind his body in case he made any effort to disobey again.

“How’d you get here so fast?” His chin tilted upwards to look at my face, his upside down expression revealing intense green eyes that bore into mine, searching intently for answers.

Something about our positioning reminded me of Mary Jane Watson and Spiderman. Except Spiderman never saved Mary Jane in favor of preserving her from a worse death – a death he’d have inflicted on her himself – had her blood been exposed. We were far more akin to Spiderman and Gwen Stacy – but without the romance – because it seemed I’d never stop shouldering more responsibility to keep him alive. If he were to die, it’d be my fault.

“I was right beside you, Edward,” I lied as a scowl pulled the corners of my lips down, severely examining his expression. I began to feel the anxiety of the risk I’d posed to my family.

“Don’t lie to me.” His face grew just as bitter and severe, his eyes accusatory. He began to move again as if he wanted to sit up, but I tugged him carefully back down.

“Can’t you listen?” I almost begged, the words holding multiple meanings.

The scene of the accident became surrounded as panicked students and faculty began to crowd where we were behind the barricade of the three cars. The bedlam was soundtracked by a torrent of shouting.

Although I could hear every exclamation of concern, every question, every instruction as we waited for the ambulance to arrive, I paid little attention to the canopy of humans, instead studying the strange metallic hues of his thick, tousled dark hair, the surprisingly smooth milkiness of his skin, the magnetism of his light green eyes, speckled with flecks of dark green the shade of the forests and brown the color of honey. This was the closest I’d ever been to him, and here I was, not falling into any monstrous temptations. It was a bizarrely beautiful sight – the upside down boy, the sparkling glass, the pretty eyes. I responded when urgent questions were asked of me but didn’t glance away. 

Only when the ambulance finally arrived a few minutes later did I look elsewhere as the boy disappeared from the ground, being lifted onto a gurney along with another student, the careless van driver. It was Melanie Dean, a very striking girl with curly hair and luminous dark skin. My frozen heart felt as though it sunk upon realizing it was her. She seemed to be in much worse shape with gashes across her body bleeding profusely. Her mother was very kind to Esme, and she was a very responsible and kind student. She couldn’t have been careless; it must have truly been an accident. I mentally forgave her and let go of the resentment I’d already built for whoever had placed this annoying boy in harm’s way.

After reassuring the EMTs I was perfectly fine, I climbed into the passenger seat of the ambulance, chatting with the driver, a friend of Carlisle’s. I didn’t look back at Edward, procrastinating facing the accusations in his eyes and trusting the medics to do their jobs.

I ignored the fierce stares of my reconvened family members as we drove out of the parking lot. Their anger wouldn’t be enough to keep them from destroying any evidence I’d left behind.

It was a great deal of luck to find Carlisle alone in his office. Hearing my approach from down the hall, his golden eyes were full of perplexity as I entered the room, becoming aghast upon seeing the gravity of my expression.

I could almost see the thoughts flash across his face as he assumed the worst, but he was polite and patient enough to allow me to speak.

“Carlisle, I’ve done something terrible,” I confessed. “Edward – or, the boy – is fine, or at least, I hope so. I didn’t do anything to him per se.” I might as well have been monosyllabic with how effective I was communicating the situation. I continued in a rush. “There was an accident. A student’s van nearly crushed him,” I decided to correct myself, “ _ would have _ crushed him had I not intervened. It was entirely reckless and irresponsible. Carlisle, I am so, so sorry. I-” I faltered, my voice catching in my throat in a strange way, the sound becoming thicker as I realized this was exactly the kind of mistake they had encouraged me to leave to avoid making. “I’m so sorry. I put you, Esme, the entire family in danger. It’s all my fault. I should have left as soon as you and Jasper said so, I shouldn’t have-”

Immediately, my adopted father materialized by my side, pulling me into a strong hug, shushing me. How many consoling stone hugs would I be enveloped in these days?

“Sweet Bella,” he began, smoothing the top of my head. “You are not the first – and I’m certain you won’t be the last–” Carlisle chuckled before continuing, “–of our family to be less than perfect. You have had grace for us countless times, and we will have grace for you.”

It was typical of Carlisle to include himself in the plural even though it seemed he had never made a mistake in his mortal or immortal life.

He pulled away from the embrace but only to hold me at arm’s length and examine my face. I looked up into his comforting eyes more than a head above me, so full of compassion and understanding that I felt unworthy of. Something about the unrelenting and unconditional love in his perfect face made me think of my human father. “Now, explain again what happened.”

I recalled every action in meticulous detail. Every shriek of the tire, every movement of my sin, every expression on Edward’s face as he watched me. As Carlisle listened, he left my side to straighten up his desk, closing the thick textbook atop it, and folded up the prescriptionless reading glasses he sometimes wore at work to hang on his collar.

“You did the right thing. And it couldn’t have been easy for you. I’m proud of you, Bella. Perhaps only the boy saw, and with all of the shock and trauma of the moment, he might be considered the least reliable witness.”

“He knows we’re...different. He knows something is wrong with me,” I whispered like a scared child.

“If we have to leave, we’ll leave.”

I frowned.

“Has he said anything?”

“Not yet, but he asked that I didn’t lie to him. Well, demanded really. Which is a very privileged stance to take when someone’s just saved your life.” The frown on my face deepened as I recalled how maddening Edward could be in the little time I interacted with him.

Carlisle brightened at my words, a small smile pulling at his lips. I wondered what he found funny.

“Anyways, I’ll come up with an explanation. I’m sure I could be persuasive enough to discredit his account of the events.” There was an edge of doubt to my voice.

“Perhaps it won’t be necessary. Shall I check on our patient?”

“Please!” I said. “I’m worried that maybe  _ I _ ended up hurting him instead!”

Carlisle’s fair eyebrows raised, and then he shook his head, laughing aloud. “With Alice a part of our family, we rarely have such a strange day that comes as a shock to us, don’t we?”

Strange, indeed. This morning we discussed how it may be more beneficial for me to leave to protect the boy, and yet, had I been gone during the accident, my absence would have accomplished the opposite.

I found myself unexpectedly laughing too as Carlisle left the room.

I impatiently waited alone in his office, distracting myself by listening to the passing voices throughout the hallways of the small Forks hospital. The anticipation was too much as I listened to the van driver’s diagnosis of injuries. I felt bad for her mom but was relieved there seemed to be no permanent damage.

Edward patiently awaited his turn for x-rays, and I was anxious to hear Carlisle’s voice. He seemed to be allowing the physician’s assistants to do the bulk of the assessment. It was probably better this way. Carlisle’s face would instantly trigger the memory of me snatching him and all but flying through the backseat of the car. Who knows what might break Edward’s silence.

Melanie and Edward chatted back and forth. He consistently brushed off the staggering guilt that led her to apologize profusely, instead charmingly turning the conversation onto other subjects as if they weren’t sitting in a hospital post accident. He seemed to always know the perfect thing to say, soothing the tension of the circumstance and distracting her from the discomfort of the PA’s inspection. Edward asked about her now deceased van, her home life, her aspirations once completing high school, making guesses as to the reasons behind her answers. Melanie was shocked at how spot on some of his assessments were. It seemed he truly was a good reader. Only when she chuckled at some of his words did she remember where they were as the laughter pained her bruised and maybe broken body.

I froze with stress as Melanie finally asked how he had gotten out of the way.

Without hesitation, Edward smoothly replied, “Oh, Bella pulled me out of the way.”

This was true, but it didn’t pose a significant risk to me.

“Bella Cullen,” he spoke again as Melanie hesitated. She must have looked confused.

Edward had spoken my name before, but something about hearing it again this time overcame me with inexplicable excitement.

“Bella was right next to me in the car.”

“In the backseat?”

“Yes.”

“What was she doing in the backseat?”

“That’s not really any of your business,” Edward laughed. He said it perfectly in a way that made it clear he wouldn’t reveal more but wasn’t rude, making Melanie laugh as well. I wasn’t sure how to feel about the implications of what he said.

“Bella Cullen… That’s weird. I didn’t even see her. It was all so fast, I guess. Did she make it out okay?”

“I think she’s perfectly fine. She’s around here somewhere, but she seems to have the right connections at this place. No stretcher required and a first class ticket to sit passenger side in the ambulance.”

I smiled to myself.

Absentmindedly, I wandered around, feeling frustrated at the distance the circumstances forced between Edward and I. I wanted to see his face for myself, know that he was okay, and figure out what needed to be said.

Near the radiology room, I snuck a peek at the X-rays they just imaged of Edward when the nurse was looking elsewhere. His scent lingered in the hallway, though muddled by the movement of passing visitors and orderlies. It tickled my throat, but the temptation didn’t consume me. I could tell he’d already been moved back to the emergency room.

Carlisle caught me, giving me a meaningful glance as he pinned the images to the light board.

“He’s absolutely fine, Bella. No harm whatsoever. Well done,” my adopted father whispered so quietly that only I could hear.

The praise evoked a complicated reaction in me. I was very pleased but remained silent for a moment.

“I think I’ll go talk to him before he sees you. Act as though nothing happened,” I whispered back. He nodded approvingly. “Act as though I didn’t kick the door off a car,” I added sarcastically.

Carlisle chuckled quietly to himself.

Arriving at the ER, I hesitated.  _ This _ would be the last time I’d ever see Edward Masen. A slight ache in my chest kept me from beginning this last of moments with him. I guess I could toy with the possibilities for the explanation as to why later once I’d left Forks.

I inhaled deeply, moving into view.

Edward’s thick eyebrows raised once he saw my face, his eyes accusatory again, but he relaxed his expression immediately before Melanie could see. “Ah, our fellow survivor’s finally decided to join us.”

Melanie’s dark eyes snapped over to look at me. She blinked rapidly, distracted by either a disorientation from her wounds or the proximity I stood to her. I was rarely this close to humans I didn’t share classes with. I probably looked even more unnatural, more inhuman under the fluorescence of the hospital lights.

“Oh, hey, Bella.” She said once recovered. “I’m  _ so _ sorry-”

“No blood, no foul,” I interrupted her apology, shrugging. I smiled widely.

Glancing over her wounds, I found myself relaxed by the lack of desire. I’d forgotten what it felt like to be so strong and unaffected. The fleshy areas of her skin and fresh blood soaking through some of the bandage wraps around her arms hardly distracted any part of me.

It was nothing in comparison to Edward’s unexposed blood.

I strolled over to seat myself on the end of Melanie’s mattress.

“So, fellow survivor,” I mimicked the name he used, “give it to me straight. What’s the verdict?”

“As I said before, never better.” He answered. Edward’s green eyes were narrowed slightly in suspicion, though I doubted Melanie would detect as such. His eyes held allegations. They seemed to say  _ I don’t trust you _ . As he shouldn’t. “They won’t let me leave though. Is there a reason you’re not strapped to a gurney? I didn’t know nepotism could extend to medical treatment.”

“It’s all about who you know,” I smiled again at his irritation. Carlisle’s tread was nearring us down the hallway. “But lucky for you, I came to spring you.”

As Carlisle entered the room, I glanced down at my hands, unwilling to watch Edward’s reaction to my father’s face. I knew he’d notice the resemblance immediately. I winced when a quiet gasp escaped from Melanie’s mouth as she dropped it open in surprise.

“So, Mr. Masen, your X-rays look good. How are you feeling?” Carlisle clipped the X-rays to the light board on the wall opposite the bed.

“I feel perfectly fine,” Edward replied smoothly.

“Does your head feel alright? I heard you hit the ground pretty hard,” Carlisle crossed over to Edward’s hospital bed. He reached forward to gently run his fingers through Edward’s bronze hair, searching for any bumps from the impact.

I froze again watching this, stunned by the nearness. A bizarre surge of something like envy crashed over me as I wished I could have the control to so tenderly touch him, no fear of inflicting pain or harm… No longing for his blood the way I longed for it now.

“I can assure you, I really am okay, Dr. Cullen.” Edward laughed.

“Well, in that case, you’re free to go. Although, I’m afraid your car wasn’t so lucky with its fate. We spoke on the phone to your father, but he-”

“Had a meeting in Seattle today, I know,” the boy finished for him.

“He’s on his way back to Forks as we speak, however if you don’t want to wait three hours, I’m sure Bella wouldn’t mind taking you home.”

I was unprepared for Carlisle’s words. My eyes immediately flashed to his, searching for an answer as to his madness. Was now truly the optimal time to push the boy’s luck? My father’s honey eyes were partly apologetic but full of faith. Clearly he trusted me too much – trusting me to ensure the safety in our secrets and the safety of the boy’s life. He reached for a clipboard of medical paperwork, looking away.

Edward barely had time to glance in surprise at me by the time our exchange had occurred. Again, he raised his eyebrows, the green irises beneath full of questions.

“Of course I wouldn’t mind, Carlisle. However, I don’t have the car with me,” I began with false politeness, knowing I was being extremely rude to question his judgment but questioning it nonetheless.

“You can take mine.” He didn’t look up as he flipped through the paperwork.

“Perfect,” I replied before standing from Melanie’s hospital bed and walking towards the exit of the room. “I’ll be right back, Edward.”

“Mr. Masen, if you feel dizzy or have trouble with your eyesight at all, come back. Bella will stay with you until your father comes home or she’ll leave a phone number for you to call if you require assistance,” Carlisle instructed as I walked down the hallway in pursuit of his office.

“Thank you,” Edward replied politely.

“It seems you were extremely lucky.”

I entered Carlisle’s office, crossing to collect the key from his belongings.

“Lucky that your sister in law happened to be beside me,” he agreed, a stern edge to his tone. I grasped the car key so tightly I nearly molded it into a new shape.

“Ah, well, yes,” Carlisle replied. I’m sure he detected the same note in his voice that I had. I listened to the near-silence of his feet and the turning of papers. “Unfortunately, Ms. Dean, it seems you weren’t quite as lucky. You’ll have to stay with us a little while longer.”

As I heard the shuffling of Edward sliding off the hospital bed, I rounded the corner of the hallway to the ER.

“Handle it whichever way you think is best,” my father mumbled silently beneath his breath upon hearing my approach.

I leaned against the wall outside the doorway, listening to the beating of Edward’s heart sending the blood circulating throughout his entire body. With every step of his feet against the tile, I wondered how I was going to do this. Sit so close beside him. Lie to him. Say goodbye.

Every thought pained me.

Edward exited the emergency room and was startled to see me already leaning there.

I smiled mournfully as I listened to the pounding of his heart in reaction.

“You scared me.”

“You ready?” I asked, holding up the key for him to see.

Without waiting for a response, I turned and walked down the hallway, silently gasping in the waves of air as other people passed by. He followed behind me through the automatic doors.

“Would you like to wait here as I bring the car around?” I turned to look at him.

“Please, Bella. I’m not that fragile. I’ll walk.” His jaw tightened. He looked down at me, the same indignant expression from earlier on his face.  _ Don’t lie to me, _ he had said…

“Okay.” I frowned, storming off in the direction of Carlisle’s black mercedes.

Once no longer beneath the overhead of the hospital, the dreary grey gloom of the sky released the frosty droplets of an oncoming rain.

I groaned internally. The rain made everything smell so much more saturated, and Edward Cullen didn’t need the extra help. The universe seemed determined to rid him from the planet today.

I unlocked the car, sliding into the driver’s seat and revving the engine to life. Although unaffected by the weather, the air was glacial, so I reached to blast the heat throughout the vehicle for his sake.

Edward caught up to the car then, opening the passenger door and dipping down to settle into his seat.

I turned to face the outside world one last time, taking a deep breath of the wintry air before closing my door.

It was worse than I imagined. The tension. The longing.

Here, in the intimacy of the interior, the heat from Edward’s body was deliciously sweltering. I was almost dizzy as the venom began to pool. I swallowed hard.

Slightly less tortuous, I could sense the resentment in the air.

I slammed my foot on the gas, reversed the mercedes out of the parking spot, and sped to the highway as if I could avoid all confrontation by racing to his home.

“Address?” I asked through gritted teeth.

He answered quietly, and I nodded, redirecting myself in that direction.

I refused to look over at him as I swerved through any traffic. There wasn’t much at this time. Hardly any witnesses…

I accelerated.

Even without breathing through my nose, I could still taste him on my tongue just as I did in biology class. Just as I did in the parking lot. But now, there were  _ hardly any witnesses...  _

My foot slammed down on the gas again.

This was exceptionally more dangerous for multiple reasons. There was no hope for fresh air from a hastily closed textbook or a passing student unless I inexplicably opened a window in the very end of a chilling winter. There was no menagerie of other human scents to dilute the potency. There was no means of exiting the situation without leaving him in a car with no driver barreling down a highway. It was an inescapable inferno.

“Bella,” Edward finally spoke. His voice was softer than I anticipated. Less accusatory. I wished I could read his thoughts to understand what led to the resolvement in his tone.

I kept my eyes on the road ahead of us.

“Bella,” he began again. “I understand that for whatever reason, you don’t want to provide an explanation as to what happened today.”

He paused, waiting for me to respond in any way. I felt his eyes scrutinize my face. I kept my features fixed into an impassive mask.

“But I’m not as gullible as you think I am. Or hope that I am. I know what I saw.”

“And what do you think you saw?” I demanded, still watching the giant firs streak past.

“Bella,” he groaned. I couldn’t help but notice he’d said my name so many times today. This time, his voice was as accusatory as his eyes had been. “Don’t patronize me. You were next to your cousin-sister by your car. I saw you. And you were laughing at something as you watched me. Then, when Melanie’s van began to skid toward me, suddenly, impossibly you were beside me, pulling me through the backseat of my car. And even more impossibly, as we were about to crash into the other car, you somehow kicked the door off and got us out, pinning me to the concrete as the collision crushed my car like a soda can. It would have crushed me, killed me even, had you not been there. So don’t act as though you were beside me the entire time, and I’m just too stupid to remember clearly. Or don’t act as though I’m too stupid now to not know when I’m being lied to.”

Finally, I looked at him.

I was horrified. But even more than that, I was awestruck. He had seen everything.

His face was fierce and weirdly beautiful.

“Nobody will believe that,” I almost whispered.

“Bella,” he quietly said my name again. The intensity of his expression softened slightly. “I had no intention of telling anybody.”

As I looked into the sincerity of his magnetic sage eyes, I was shocked to see how genuinely he meant it. I believed him.

“Then what does it matter?” I asked stubbornly.

“I value transparency. If I’m going to lie, I want to know why I’m lying for you.”

What he asked of me was fair. And I was surprised that I wished I could give it to him. That I trusted him. Something in me wished he could trust me.

But he couldn’t do that. And he shouldn’t.

I realized what was so stirring about the connection to this strange, bronze-haired boy. The draw of his blood was the inciting complication driving us together but outside of my family, these were the first real conversations I’d had in years.

And I can’t even truly be honest.

I pulled onto his street, scanning the numbers for the correct address.

“Here,” he said as we slowed in front of a lonely house nestled behind giant trees and bushes, much too large for the boy to go in to be alone. It was one of the nicer houses in Forks with its latticed bay windows and small wraparound porch. But it was a grey home against a grey sky and lifeless within. The windows were dark as if nobody had been home for a long time.

There wasn’t much I could do about having to breathe to speak. Reluctantly, I inhaled. The appeal was every bit as powerful, and I battled with the instinct to grab hold of him and crush his neck to my mouth.

I gave myself a moment to recover, willing myself to clarity.

He waited, watching me. I turned my head to face him.

“Edward,” I began this time,  _ “please. _ Can you please let it go?”

He stared me down, his eyes dark and contemplative.

“I can’t.” He moved to unbuckle his seatbelt. “But I can see that you won’t tell me, so don’t worry about it. Thank you for the ride.”

I placed the car in park and cut the engine as he began to exit the car.

I should have just let him go, but stubbornly I couldn’t let that be the last moment I’d ever spend with him.

“What are you doing?” He asked as I got out, shutting the door.

“Carlisle said to stay with you, didn’t he?”

“He said that after you’d left the room,” he pointed out. I wanted to kick myself, but this was a minor slip up in the grand scheme of today.  
“Well, it wasn’t hard to assume. How else will you make it back to the hospital if something happens to you?”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine.”

His words took on a double meaning to me. Maybe I should just leave now. He will be fine. Or at least, he’d only ever truly be fine once I’d left Forks.

“You’ll still have to wait three hours for your father to make it home. If you died in that time, it’d be my responsibility.” Tenaciously, I kept pace with him easily up the walkway to the porch. Whether Carlisle missed something crucially life-threatening from the accident or not, the words were true.

“I don’t see myself dying soon,” Edward fished in his pocket for a set of keys. “But whatever helps you sleep better at night.”

His strong face was sullen. The heavy eyebrows pulled together in frustration as he used the key to unlock the door.

“You’re angry with me,” I said.

He sighed heavily, pausing to look down into my eyes. His eyes were stormy and brooding. Then, he swung the door open and stepped inside.

Hesitantly, I followed him in.

His home was shrouded in darkness – not that my eyes needed the silvery light pouring in from the open door he was shutting behind me. I could see how carefully decorated it was. Navy walls and dark wooden accents everywhere – the floors, a great big grandfather clock, bookshelves, the frames on paintings. There were touches of white and black here and there too – gothic white lattice doors to the right leading to a home office with shelves of books nearly rivaling Carlisle’s collection behind a massive, intricately carved desk, a glossy black grand piano in the small, living area off to the left up a small step.

Here in the dark, it was even worse than it had been in the car. Though there was more distance between us now, lessening the heat his body washed over me, still, everything smelled of him and I was waging a war within. A bizarre current of energy coursed through the air between us and into my dead veins.

He turned on a small lamp illuminating the small entrance hallway with golden light that warmed his angry eyes.

“Do you play?” I asked in an attempt to distract myself from the inevitable bloom of the mouthwatering aroma beneath his skin, glancing again at the piano.

“Yes,” he responded, not bothering to elaborate.

“We have a piano just like this at home. Rosalie plays,” I spoke quietly. Aside from the bloodlust begging for attention in another corner of my brain, the intimacy of the two of us in this large house made me feel shy.

He looked at me meaningfully again for one moment, the mesmerizing green of his irises betraying some of the hurt he felt, before he turned to walk down the hallway.

The aching in my chest returned and without consciously deciding to, I was following him much too fast. The monstrous side of me was instantly excited by the pursuit, so I slowed myself to subdue it.

I paused for a moment before rounding the corner he had turned, wrestling with myself, suppressing the violence that begged me to lurch forward and empty his body. I smoothed the anguish contorting my face but finding that the pucker between my eyebrows was unwilling to undo itself.

With another excruciating breath through my mouth rather than my nose – I told myself that the burn ripping across my tongue was a good thing seeing that it was a reminder he had survived the car accident and the unexpected car ride that soon followed later – I turned the corner.

This must have been the real living room. Again, it seemed much too large for just the boy. His house wasn’t overwhelmingly huge but definitely bigger than average for this town. The room was decorated again in the strange assemblage of something victorian, something gothic, and something modern. It seemed reminiscent of another time. The room was still in the rich, dark jewel tones of navy, onyx, and pearl with the dark accents of wood. Patterns and textures of damask and velvet covered the rugs, tapestries, and drapery.

The boy was squatted down by the ornate white fireplace, his silhouette dark against the brilliant orange that erupted from the wood once he successfully got the fire started. The room was instantly filled with a heat that could nearly rival what it felt like to sit beside him in Carlisle’s car.

He stayed down for a moment, his back to me. Although completely vulnerable, the monster was quieted for now as I watched him in wonderment.

Finally, he stood up, looked at the fire for a second longer, and then settled onto a long white couch before the fireplace, stretching the length of his tall body across it.

“Edward,” I almost whispered from the entrance of the room, unsure of what to do with myself.

Tentatively, I took slow, cautious steps towards the couch as if approaching a wounded animal. With every movement, I measured the risk I posed. When I trusted myself, I crossed around the couch, gradually sinking down to sit down on the rug that extended from the edge of the fireplace across the length of the room.

I might as well have sat in the fire and allowed it to consume me for how much distance I tried to leave between the two of us. I was practically a foot from being perched on the wood. I wrapped my arms around my knees as I watched Edward’s eyes move along the mantel, the heat of the fire on my back and the boy in front of me warming me wonderfully. The flickering of the flames cast shadows that danced along his face, illuminating his green eyes. His rain-sprinkled hair appeared redder than ever, all traces of the warm bronzy-brown having vanished before the orange light of the fire.

“I know you’re not stupid,” I spoke. Edward’s eyes flickered over to me.

“I’m not,” he agreed, a halfhearted smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re not,” I said again, surprising myself by laughing. His smirk grew into a sweeter smile, and I was relieved by the change in expression. In this moment, it felt as though no barriers existed between us. Like I had no secrets to hide from him, no differences among two friends. Except I did. And we weren’t friends, nor could we ever be.

“But?” He asked, already reading that I was unwilling to relent.

“But I can’t explain myself. I simply can’t. And I need you to promise me that you’ll let this go.” It was too much to ask and horribly unfair.

He sighed, sensing that the moment was clearly over.

“Okay,” Edward replied simply, reaching for a blanket hung over the back of the couch. He unfolded it, throwing it across his body. “I’m going to try to take a nap.”

“Okay,” I answered.

He propped his head up on a plushy brown pillow, his arm sliding beneath it, and closed his eyes.

I watched him for a moment, wishing he’d change his mind and open his eyes instead of hiding them from me. I hadn’t been ready to never see them again.

“Are you just going to watch me sleep?” He asked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. His eyes remained closed.

“No,” I shot up, unsure of whether I should leave or stay or where to even place myself if I did.

“Well, make yourself comfortable. You really don’t have to stay though. I can take care of myself,” Edward chuckled, readjusting his position on the couch.

I nodded even though he couldn’t see, deciding he was right. As I noiselessly made my way out of the room, his voice stopped me.

“Bella?”

“Yes?”

“Thank you. For saving my life.”

“Goodbye, Edward,” I whispered.

“Oh, and by the way,” he yawned. “I’m still not letting this go.”

I said nothing as I left the house.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nobody:  
> vampire bella: my vampire mind is infallible and so strong and fast because i'm a vampire and i can smell everything and see everything even in the dark because my vampire powers are so strong did i mention i was a vampire?
> 
> i hope u enjoyed. sorry for taking so long!
> 
> if we’re being real, smeyer’s bella would have said holy crow at the accident, but MY bella can curse because i’m not a mormon.


	5. Family Feud

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi everybody <3 i've incorporated some quotes from midnight sun because obviously this is still something of a parallel to midnight sun & i wanted to stay true to some of the reactions from the family. also, if you follow me on tumblr, you may recognize a little blurb imbedded here that i've written before about the bookshelf hehe. hope yall enjoy ♡♡♡

The weight of the battle I was fighting within myself was beginning to surpass the previous toll it’d taken on me. Every moment since I met Edward, it seemed I was falling further down into an abyss that I couldn’t climb out of, and every time I felt like maybe I’d found my grip, I only fell further. Again, I was frustrated as I sat outside Edward’s house in Carlisle’s Mercedes, watching the hazy, obscure sun slip further away behind the blackened clouds, leaving me shrouded in the darkness of a midday storm and the cover of pouring rain. I felt partially guilty for not returning Carlisle’s car. He wouldn’t mind running home, but Esme might not be too pleased about the puddles his drenched clothing would leave on her newly installed flooring. Although after today, it might not matter anymore.

I wondered what I’d return home to. Would they have already finished packing up our belongings? Would they be waiting to confront me about the consequences of my actions? Carlisle was forgiving, but would the rest of my family be?

For those reasons, I wasn’t ready to return home yet. But mostly, I was hesitant to drive away because I knew the moment my tires left Edward’s street would be the moment I’d be leaving him behind in Forks. I felt unprepared for the finality of such a moment.

When I heard the soft purr of an engine turning onto the street around one in the afternoon, I sighed, shifting the car into drive and moving forward to the end of the road in case it was Edward’s father returning home. I watched in my rearview mirror as the silver vehicle confirmed my suspicions by pulling into Edward’s driveway. Although the darkness of the thunderstorm’s gloom brewing in the clouds did little to obscure my eyesight, the torrent of rain pounding down relentlessly onto the green earth was too thick for even my eyes to catch a good glimpse of his face.

I could stay and listen – hear the voice of his father and compare it to the quality of Edward’s low, soft timbre, see if Edward’s sincerity in sticking to my version of events was genuine, check if he was truly as alright as he insisted – but maybe I was only looking for reasons to avoid heading home. Or maybe I was just being unforgivably invasive.

I glanced at the digital clock. 1:05. If they had stayed in their classes after the accident, there was still another hour and forty minutes before my siblings would be released from school. If they went home early, then Carlisle still wouldn’t be home for another two hours and twenty five minutes. I decided I’d rather not be there without Carlisle, so I lifted my foot off the break, slammed on the gas, and headed for Port Angeles before I realized where I was going.

As I left Forks behind me, the rain softened to a more consoling pitter patter on the roof of the car, and the clouds, although still grey, were lighter, hinting at the hidden sun. I made it to Port Angeles in under half an hour, luckily finding the roads to be mostly empty.

I drove at an appropriate speed once I reached the city. It was surprisingly beautiful scenery for such a disastrous day. It had snowed the night before here as well, but the melted snow hadn’t refrozen into ice. Instead, the tops of the buildings were covered in a thin layer of fluffy white snowflakes. The clouds above were thick enough to conceal me from the sun but held no implications of oncoming rain.

I located a parking spot near my favorite old brick building and paid the meter for the next few hours. The air was even more wintry here than in Forks as the harbor brought in fresh, freezing ocean spray. There was a bookstore I liked to go to here in Port Angeles. Even as a child, Forks didn’t have an adequate library or bookstore to satiate my needs. My previous grievances with the rainforest of a city aside, there was always the silver lining of the bookstore.

If there was one thing that I looked forward to when arriving in the otherwise detestable small town of Forks in the rainy state of Washington, it was returning to the familiar mahogany of the sturdy bookshelf in the tiny living room of Charlie’s small, two-story house. It had been a gift – a homecoming gesture – in hopes to put me in better spirits when I was forced to spend my summers with my father. He knew how I had disliked his gloomy town just as my mother had. A friend from the reservation, Billy Black’s, young, cheerful son built the bookshelf himself. Billy had dismissed Charlie’s offers to pay his son for the service, insisting he accept it as a present in return for all the nights Billy stole away to the Swan Residence (Swan, the last name I held as a human) to watch the game on Charlie’s larger – though not by much – television screen. When he hadn’t been looking, Charlie slipped a small wad of cash to Billy’s kid who excitedly accepted it, eager to save for some other projects.

Over time, the book shelf became a home for some of my favorite classic novels. On his days off, when his friend Harry Clearwater was unavailable for a fishing trip, he’d picked up books of all kinds, hoping I would find at least one I liked in the overflowing collection. The bookshelf was stuffed with paperbacks and hardbacks, lining each ledge edge to edge with books piling horizontally on top of the other books as space began to run out. It was a gesture that moved me in ways I was unused to and ways I couldn’t find the words to express.

When I was in town, Charlie drove me to some of the larger cities surrounding his small town and waited patiently as I perused the shelves of second-hand book stores. Smart as he was, he wasn’t a very articulate man and he struggled to convey the depth of his emotions through words. But something in his eyes betrayed the way his heart overflowed with pride and adoration watching his small, gangly daughter enter into a world of her own as she searched for her next favorite story to add to their beloved bookshelf. It was a look I caught that sometimes made me feel embarrassed and shy by the profundity of the love in it but now a look that I’d always remember. A look that would always make my unbeating heart feel somehow full and empty at the same time. Intense feelings of love and sadness for what I’d once had and since lost.  
This bookstore was our favorite, and therefore, it would always be my favorite. It still held the aged charm of the past, but in desperation for relevance today, they made some modern improvements. I’d made sure to keep the store open with anonymous donations any time it seemed it'd go under. Too many independent bookstores suffered in such a competitive, unfair market full of large online distributors.

I listened to the familiar hum of the glowing neon sign in the window as I reached for the door. A bell above let out a peal of rings as I entered, and the clerk behind the wooden counter looked up beneath her large glasses. Her skin was deeply tan with olive undertones, and her dark hair was cropped in a perfect line above her shoulders.

Her eyes registered shock upon seeing my face. Her heart rate picked up into a gallop, and she stuttered over her words. “W-welcome!”

“Thank you,” I smiled softly, though finding politeness to be difficult today. I didn’t want to come across threatening or rude, but feigning anything resembling joy was especially exhausting. I kept my voice gentle and even so as not to alarm the woman.

“Let me know if you need any help!” She called after me as I passed the counter, heading deeper into the store.

The shop was unpopulated at this time of day. Only a few people loitered here and there examining the shelves or curled up on loveseats with hot coffee cups to recover from the chill of the outdoors.

I crossed over the entirety of the first floor, finding the concealed narrow staircase that led to the upstairs. Tasting the air, I could tell there was nobody immediately near me, so I flew up the staircase at a more reasonable speed though I was in no hurry. The second floor was a brown labyrinth, the bookshelves placed in a way to create an intimate maze with countless little crevices to slip into and hide away from the rest of the world. Hardbacks and paperbacks piled the shelves and walls from the floor to the ceiling. The air was filled with the scents of crispy paper and aged ink – the sweet, musky smell of older books. The lighting was warm reddish-orange, dull, and not ideal for reading despite the setting, but a miscellaneous mélange of lamps in all shapes and sizes embellished the spaces tucked between the bookcases, generating enough brightness to read in tiny, personal pools of light.

I weaved a path through the maze until I reached a dead-end corner with a single, wine-colored armchair in a faded leather. An ornate wooden plaque spray painted gold with eroded edges was drilled into the shelf behind the chair, the words _“For Charlie”_ engraved into the pallet. Well, my donations had been _mostly_ anonymous.

No matter how many times I rounded this corner, every time my eyes fell on the empty chair hit me like a wrecking ball with nearly unmanageable grief. Any attempt to decipher the thoughts that came with this always led me to simplistic, unintelligble statements. That was all that I could ever handle. It was too much emptiness, too much numbness, too much complexity. It was always simply too much. And that was about the only conclusion I could come to no matter how much gentleness and coaxing my family comforted me with. It was always easier to push away the thought, to avoid thinking too much than to acknowledge the hole in my chest. Some days I almost forget, and some days it becomes seemingly ever present. It was always easier to ignore the gravity of the grief.

But in this life with the absoluteness of what we are, all we can do is go on. One next step at a time. As much as I felt so much stronger and accustomed to this life, there was no denying the simple truth – there was so much loss in immortality.

I sighed. Even with all of our physical resilience, the extremities of our emotions in this form were enough to feel tired.

I took steps forward and turned to sink into the chair, feeling very small. Looking out at the warmth of the bookcases and the endless array of novels, I thought of what it would be like to be Charlie sitting here, watching his awkward daughter run her finger along all the spines or disappear into the maze only to be found on the floor somewhere surrounded by piles of books.

Sometimes being here I could feel the ghost of Charlie’s love. The magnitude that he couldn’t always communicate and that I didn’t always understand the extent of. But here, I could feel it. And I felt the same love for him in return. I missed him. His thick mustache, the sudden youthfulness in his warm, brown eyes when he smiled. The endearing crinkles that reminded me of his age. The coffee rings on the table and the snow chains on my tires. The flush of red under his translucent skin when he was angry or embarrassed. Just like how my skin had been. Like father, like daughter.

I wondered what he’d think of my life now, and what he’d think of what I’d done today. Knowing the circumstances of the secrets I was meant to keep, would he have thought I’d done the right thing as Carlisle had? Or would he have thought I interfered and placed my siblings at risk like the rest of my family might think?

  
I think that despite the consequences, he would have said something like, “you did the right thing, kid.” And maybe he’d even uncomfortably ask me about whether or not this boy was someone he should be keeping his eye on and would be immensely relieved when I reassured him that the answer was no. The thought almost made me smile. So then, I couldn’t bring myself to regret my decisions, and I wouldn’t allow myself to.

I sat there in the weathered leather of the chair for some time, listening to the subtle dragging of pages sliding off of shelves, the whoosh of air and the crispy rustle of paper as someone turned a page, the heaviness of footsteps on dead pieces of floorboard, the twinkle of the bell above the front door, and the whisper of the frozen wind rushing inside. After an hour, I stirred, rising from Charlie’s chair to trace my finger along the edges of the shelves, the action stirring up some dust particles to leap into the air like dandelion seeds, the warm light catching them in astonishing ways as they floated along. I left my little nook briefly to find the right section that would hold the book I was suddenly searching for.

When I located it, I plucked the gently used novel off the shelf, vowing to officially mend my own copy at home since it was the same story that Emmett had destroyed the morning of the first day I saw Edward.

I returned to the armchair, once again sinking down into the burgundy, and flipped through the aged pages until I found the place I left off at.

I’d have read until closing time, but eventually something – maybe the unreliability of initial appearances – in _Pride and Prejudice_ began to bother me in a way that it never had before. I gave up on the book and instead sat unthinking – or attempting to, at least– quietly for a few hours.

Again, I longed to sleep. I’d never needed an escape as much as I did now as my mind was becoming too tiring a place to consciously be.

After some time, I heard creaky footsteps on the ancient wood up the stairs and the jingling sound of keys hitting each other. I waited patiently as they approached, imagining where exactly they may be in the labyrinth as they turned corners and hesitated to quietly shove stray books back onto shelves. They drew closer, closing in the distance between them and my little nook, finally rounding the corner.

“Oh!” The clerk from downstairs gasped in surprise, dropping the book in her hand. I stopped myself from saving it to not startle her any further with sudden movements, allowing it to clatter noisily to the floor.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured, only then rising from the chair to lean down and collect the novel after an appropriate amount of reaction time. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

The clerk’s heart boomed loudly in her chest. “No, no, it’s alright,” she laughed breathlessly, a hand fluttering to her heart. “I just didn’t think anyone else was here... We’re, uh, sorry, we’re closed!”

“Oh, I’m sorry again,” I laughed softly as well to relax her, extending my hand to offer her the book she’d dropped. “I must have lost track of time.”

“That’s okay! It happens more often than you think...” the young woman laughed again, her heart rate slowing down to a more regular pace, though now that she recovered from the shock, her face was mesmerized by the oddness of my jarringly perfect appearance.

“I’ll leave now,” I smiled politely despite the discomfort of her scrutiny, pushing the book forward into her hand, careful not to touch her skin. Without processing, she took hold of the book.

As I began to pass her, she clumsily turned.

“Oh, uh, wait! I’ll unlock the door to let you out!”

I allowed her to pass me up and leisurely followed her through the maze down the stairs. Her blood had a sweet smell, but it was still unappealing in comparison to Edward’s.

Once we’d reached the door, I could see how much time had passed whilst I hadn’t been paying attention. Through the large windows, night had fallen, a blackened darkness over the port city.

“Here we are,” she shyly chirped in a very intentionally favorable tone – something she probably reserved for customer service – and fiddled with the keys. Her hands shook slightly, and I felt guilty for how it must feel to have her back turned to a predator. Of course, she couldn’t know the difference, but her body recognized the threat. Finally, once she’d found the right key, she jimmied the rusty metal into the lock – missing the narrow fissure twice at first – and opened the door.

“Sorry about that. Thank you so much for coming,” she turned, gesturing with a shaky hand towards the outside world. The bitter wind blew in through the opening, making her shiver.

“Thank you,” I smiled again for her sake. Her eyes were peculiarly light compared to the rest of her features, making them extremely prominent. They were lighter and more hazel, yet the shade of green made me think of Edward again. I sighed. “Have a good night.”

I stepped out into the darkened street, looking down at the strange way the red light from the neon sign in the window washed over and illuminated my skin. Tiny insects flew around the street lamps up above, casting irregularly moving shadows on the frozen sidewalk.

The heavy door shut loudly behind me, and she clicked the lock. It was unusually quiet, though that could be due to it being a weeknight. The bulbs in the streetlamps hummed and the bugs buzzed in response.

I strolled along the sidewalk, taking my time before returning to Carlisle’s car. I should have paid the meter more generously. It expired two hours ago. I’d received a parking ticket.

I removed the frozen slip of paper and unlocked the car, sliding into the driver’s seat. I had no desire to drive fast at first, deciding to return home at the speed limit. After about forty minutes, suddenly the anticipation to get the confrontation out of the way overcame me, and I drove 200 miles per hour the rest of the way home. Within minutes, I was turning onto the miles-long driveway.

As I raced for the garage, I listened for any movement from the bright house. There was none. I wondered how long they’d been sitting still, waiting for me. I groaned aloud in greeting.

The garage door was open so I pulled into the blue fluorescence and parked beside Rosalie’s day car. I sighed once before determinedly exiting the vehicle.

I slammed the door a little too hard before catching the handle before it hit the body. I figure I’d reached my quota this morning when it came to destroying car doors.

I ran through the small section of woods separating the garage from the house and braced myself for the impact of the meeting.

“Hello,” I said sheepishly. I wanted to sound stronger, more confident, but my nerve wavered as I entered the dining room to see everyone waiting for me at the long oval table. At the eastern head of the table, Carlisle and Esme sat side by side, their hands resting together atop the mahogany. I felt some of the resilience I’d mustered in the last few seconds return upon seeing the intensity of Esme’s golden eyes. They were full of concern and overwhelmingly forgiving. It was reassuring.

The feeling diminished when I saw how Rosalie sat directly opposite from Carlisle, very intentionally avoiding eye contact with me, her arms folded firmly across her chest. I could feel the tension and coldness emanating from her. I was unused to feeling spurned by Rosalie. She always tenderly cared for me, always taking my side… My actions must have truly offended her today. A twinge of guilt twisted my abdomen.

It was unfair to feel any sense of betrayal considering the danger I’d placed my family in, but still with Emmett wrly seated beside Rosalie, and Jasper standing behind them, leaning against the wall mirroring Rose’s crossed arms, I felt some irrational anger at the lines being drawn. Of course, I should have known better than to think Emmett would have my back as if he wouldn’t undoubtedly support Rosalie.

Alice sat beside Esme, her eyes focused on something other than the room. I wondered if her visions made her support waver, if in all the hours I’d been gone, she’d been moving back and forth on either side of the room. She always chose the winning side.

“I’m sorry,” I breathed. “First, for this,” I crossed to the other side of the table to sit beside Carlisle, placing the parking ticket on the wood and sliding it over towards him.  
His lips curved into an amused smirk, and I felt encouraged by the expression.

“And more importantly,” I turned to face Rosalie, Emmett, and Jasper. “I’m very, _very_ sorry for this morning. It was incredibly selfish, irresponsible, and stupid of me to put any of you at risk. It’s all my fault… I take full responsibility for my actions.”

Rosalie’s exquisite face finally looked up at me, her expression full of hurt. “And what does that mean, Bella? Are you planning on fixing this?”

The implication behind her words filled me with sudden indignation, and before I could calm myself down, I snapped, “not in the way that you mean.”

Of course, something had to be done about the accident, but what was the point of going to such idiotic lengths to save his life only to end it later? Didn’t she realize I’ve been fighting to keep him alive since the very moment I’d met him?

Rosalie took offense to the harsh accusation of my words. “You say that as if I’d advocate for this under normal circumstances.”

“I had planned on leaving before, and I will leave now if it makes things easier.” Rather than keeping my voice calm and even, the words again came out in ways I didn’t intend. Unnecessarily punitive. I knew it was ridiculous to be so cross with Rosalie’s anger towards me when she was entirely right, but I couldn’t tame my passion in defense of Edward’s silly little life.

“Oh, no, Bella,” Esme murmured. “Please, you can’t leave.”

I reached to squeeze my mother’s hand.

“It’d have been helpful prior to this morning,” Jasper spoke up. “Now, it’s irrelevant.”

“Jazz is right,” Emmett agreed. “There’s no point in leaving now. If anything, that’d look more suspicious.”

“I agree with Emmett, Bella,” Carlisle nodded. “For you to disappear, perhaps it’d make the boy more inclined to talk. Either all of us leave or none.”

“Edward won’t say anything,” I insisted.

“You can’t know that,” Rosalie argued.

“I trust him,” I disagreed, surprising myself at how true the statement was. I thought back to the biology lab when he’d jokingly asked if I trusted him. It was in response to his identification of the stages of mitosis, and I had said no. Now, I suddenly entrusted him with the secrecy of my existence. I was really stupid. She scoffed at my words. “Alice, back me up.”

“I can’t see what will happen if we just ignore this,” Alice rubbed her temples before shooting an accusatory glance in Jasper and Rosalie’s direction.

“We can’t ignore this. Bella, I have always supported you, and of course I love you dearly. But clearly, this isn’t some minor mistake. You were right – it _was_ incredibly selfish and irresponsible and _stupid!_ And it’d be even more irresponsible and stupid for us to allow the human the chance to say anything about it. Carlisle, you must see that,” Rosalie turned her attention to our adopted father.

“It’s not like we haven’t left rumors behind before,” I reminded her. “And I don’t recall anyone else’s first offense putting them on trial like this.”

She ignored the second part of my statement. “ _Rumors,_ Bella. Today, you’ve provided eyewitnesses and evidence! It’s not enough that you were perfect prior to today. You’re no more a saint than the rest of us! We have to be perfect _always!_ This was a _massive_ mistake!” Rosalie stood up from her chair.

“And I know that!” I stood up as well.

“Then you should agree with what’s the right course of action! It doesn’t have to be a big production. So he seemed alright after the accident. Every mortal goes to sleep with the chance of never waking up. Say Carlisle missed something far more serious than it looked. I don’t delight in this, Bella, but the rest of our kind would expect us to take care of this. Technically, _you_ should be the one to clean up after yourself.”

“Rosalie, the Masen boy is completely innocent,” Carlisle gently disapproved.

Rosalie frowned. “It’s an unfortunate consequence to Bella’s mistake in favor of protecting us all, but a consequence nonetheless”

“Rose, I _am_ sorry-”

“Sorry doesn’t matter anymore, Bella!” She interrupted.

“I never wanted this. I never wanted to place you or Emmett or any of us in this position. I know my actions have affected you. But I couldn’t just let him die that way!” My chest sunk at the thought.

“But it wasn’t your place to meddle with fate. You’ve already interrupted his life with your existence alone. Why let him survive? So that you could slaughter him later?”

I winced at her words, but a low hiss escaped my throat as well.

“Rose...” Emmett reached up for her hand to placate her, but she pulled away.

“No, it’s the truth. Our existence and your fixation on his scent posed a threat to the boy. His time came, but you interfered. Now he poses a greater threat to us. So what was the point of that then? You couldn’t help yourself from cutting into his life? It seems the universe provided you with an easy way out, and you went out of your way to make things not only more difficult for yourself but for us as well. I don’t always love this life, but excuse me for taking it personally when you’ve threatened the tiniest piece of happiness I have here! You should have just let him die! It seems you’ll end up killing him anyways!”

The room shifted completely. Suddenly, everyone was on their feet, Rosalie leaned towards me in defense, Emmett uncomfortably but faithfully crouched by her side, Jasper’s stance was more confident and relaxed but poised to strike as well. Carlisle and Esme were both by my sides, holding me in place by my arms. Only Alice remained in her seat, not at all concerned by the change in atmosphere. It took me half a second to realize what had triggered everyone’s response – to process the vicious growl that erupted from my throat and the tenseness of my body as it coiled to spring at my own sister. I was too stubborn and furious to feel any shame yet. I scowled but eased my stance, allowing Carlisle and Esme to gently coax me back to my chair. Everyone else loosened their defensive posture. Emmett made Rosalie sit down, her golden eyes narrowed in a harsh glare of which I was the recipient. Jasper stood straight again but remained stiff. Once we’d all relaxed, Carlisle began speaking again.

“Rosalie, I know you mean well, but every life is precious. To murder a blameless child poses an even greater risk to us. The occasional accident or lapse in control is a regrettable part of who we are, but to bring harm to the boy would make ourselves unworthy of the protection you so lovingly wish to give us. If we make exceptions to protect ourselves, we risk something much more important. We risk losing the essence of who we are.”

I couldn’t help the tiny smile that pulled at the corner of my lips.

“Carlisle, it’s about being responsible when Bella was so horribly irresponsible.”

I frowned. Being on the receiving end of Rosalie’s inflexibility and anger was not at all pleasant.

"It's being callous," Carlisle corrected softly before repeating himself. “Every human life is precious.”

Rosalie sighed heavily and turned her head to again avoid looking at me, making it very apparent where the two of us stood.

“The question is whether or not we should move on,” he continued.

“The last thing I want is to unroot any of you. I don’t think that’ll be necessary, Carlisle. I feel confident about Edward’s silence,” I insisted again.

Rosalie huffed loudly, and I turned just in time to catch her rolling her eyes.

“Well, we certainly don't have to decide now. Perhaps we wait then,” Carlisle nodded.

I turned to face Alice, searching for some reassurance about the future but instead following her accusatory gaze to where Jasper stood leaning against the wall again. They were having another one of those silent conversations they shared that the rest of us were lost to.

“What?” Emmett demanded, impatient.

“Jazz seems to feel he’s above this conversation,” Alice gritted her teeth. “He seems to think _he_ should set things right.”

My eyes flashed between her and Jasper, whose face was expressionless and unmoved. It took me a moment to piece it together.

“Jazz,” I warned as I began to feel irrationally overprotective again. “I won’t let you punish him for my mistake.”

“So he benefits from it then?” He raised his eyebrows.

“I won’t allow it,” I repeated.

“And I won’t allow Alice to live in danger. You can’t understand, Bella. You don’t feel about anyone the way I feel towards her.”

“That’s irrelevant. I’m not just going to stand aside as you murder him,” I hissed.

We stared at each other. I knew he was measuring the opposition and sampling the depth of my determination.

“I will _not_ let you hurt Edward Masen," I insisted through my teeth.

“Jazz,” Alice interrupted us, cutting through the tension in the air.

“Don’t bother telling me you can protect yourself, Alice. I already know that, but-”

“That’s not what I was going to say, but thank you for the assumption,” she rolled her eyes. “And it’s true, I _can._ I don’t need the backup, you overprotective fool.”

She said the last words playfully, her voice full of affection, as she stuck her tongue out. The action was out of sync with the mood of the room. “What I was going to ask for was a _favor.”_

Jasper’s eyebrows raised at what was seemingly an inappropriate time to make any requests. My eyebrows knitted in confusion at where the conversation was heading.

“I know you love me, but I would really appreciate it if you didn’t try to kill Edward. First, we all know how headstrong Bella is, so you shouldn’t doubt how serious she’s being right now. I don’t want the two of you to fight. Seriously. Second, Edward is my friend. Yours too. At least, he’s going to be.”

“What?” Jasper gasped. Even though we were all very much accustomed to Alice’s ambiguity and the bizarre certainty in which she spoke about things only she had seen, this was not a statement that could so easily be digested. I couldn’t tear my attention from Alice, staring intently at her face as if the meaning behind her words would suddenly be written on her forehead. What had she seen in that little odd head of hers?

“I’m going to love him–” as she said this, I nearly choked on the air whistling down my throat “–someday, Jazz. I’d be _very_ put out with you if you don’t leave him be.”

I was locked into place, my eyes still boring deeply into my sister’s face. I could feel the pucker on my forehead etched into my expression as I tried to make sense of what she was saying. I kept expecting Alice to explain, but every time she opened her mouth she only confounded me more.

“Ahh!” Alice sighed, smiling brightly. “See, there’s nothing to worry about! Edward won’t say anything at all.”

I could not see.

“Alice,” I whined. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know, Bella. I told you something was changing in your future.”

“In _my_ future? What did you see?”

“Hmm… I don’t think I should share this quite yet,” Alice locked her jaw, and I growled, exasperated.

“Oh, clearly, Bella can’t be trusted lately to not act on her impulses! You should give her whatever warning you’re hiding,” Rosalie sighed, annoyed.

I was still feeling irritated with Rose’s resentment, but I couldn’t disagree with her. “She’s right, Alice.”

“I really don’t think-”

“Who votes that Alice shares what she knows?” I asked restlessly. “Raise your hand.”

It was juvenile, and this was not how we came to decisions _ever._ Of course we’d discuss differing opinions, but never so bluntly did we vote in this manner. The way I approached the subject was rude, and yet unanimously, six hands still shot into the air including my own.

“Fine,” Alice huffed, scowling. “But I’m not obligated to share anything just because the rest of you _voted._ That’s silly. I’m only sharing because I can see that Bella won’t let this go.”

She paused and we waited, staring. It was as if we were awaiting the results of a reading from some fortune teller at a carnival, anxious to see which tarot cards she had pulled. Anxious to see what this would mean for my life.

“My vision keeps becoming clearer. At first, it was just hazy, and I couldn’t make sense of it or of who I was seeing. But every minute it’s like Bella’s more decided,” Alice began. Six pairs of eyes flickered to me, but I had no idea what she was referring to, nor did I know how this related to the boy. Alice frowned a little as if she knew what she was about to say wouldn’t be received well. “It seems there’s only two ways left for Edward now. Either Bella will… end his life or… he’ll join us.”

Esme gasped as my mouth dropped open.

 _“Join us?!”_ I choked out once I recovered. It could have been minutes or hours later. I was too shocked to tell the difference. “I…. I have _not_ made a decision anywhere in that realm at all. That has never _ever_ crossed my mind. Under what circumstance would I turn him?”

“Maybe you don’t. Maybe I do it because I love him too or at least, I will. I don’t know.”

 _“Love him, too?”_ I gaped, convinced Alice’s abilities were broken somehow. “What does that even mean? Who else are you talking about?”

“Who do you think, Bella?” Alice rolled her eyes again, impatient at my lack of clairvoyance. “Clearly not Rosalie.”

“Love him!?” Rosalie questioned incredulously, eyeing me as if I’d completely lost my mind. Maybe I had.

I then realized what Alice meant as I watched Rosalie’s face and processed the other baffled pairs of eyes.

“You mean _me!?”_ I gasped.

“Woah! What the hell...” Emmett almost laughed in surprise, then decided it was indeed actually funny and broke out into real, booming laughter. _“Damn!_ That’s rough. Of course, _Bella_ would fall for a human!”

“Fall for a human?” Esme asked, astonished. “Fall in love? With the boy she saved today?”

 _“Nobody_ is in love with anybody,” I stood up. “That’s completely absurd!”

“Ooh, touchy subject,” Emmett snickered. I glared daggers at him.

“What exactly do you see, Alice?” Jasper asked.

“I already told you. It depends on Bella’s strength. Either she’ll kill him herself which would really destroy you, Bella, not to mention how very irritated _I’d_ be with _you–”_ she gave me a stern look through narrowed eyes as if I’d already committed the murder then returned her attention to the rest of our family “–or he’ll be one of us someday. There’s not much else to say; the visions are finite but not detailed. It will require a great deal of self control…”

As she continued to muse, I was still frozen in place on my feet, completely numb and completely bewildered.

“...Greater than even Carlisle’s capability maybe. I wouldn’t have put it past her prior to this, but now… It’ll be extremely close as to whether or not she kills him. The only thing she’s not strong enough to do is stay away from him. That’s a completely lost cause.”

The room was entirely quiet.

“Well, this complicates things greatly,” Carlisle murmured.

After another moment of silence, Rosalie piped up. “I can’t believe it. In love with a _human-”_

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Rosalie!” I snarled, returning to some clarity. I regretted it immediately. Not for the rudeness, but for the defensiveness providing any credibility to Alice's ridiculous vision.

“Girls, please-” Esme began to plead.

“Ooh, she got you there, babe,” Emmett interrupted, chuckling as Rose growled at him.

“Emmett,” Esme warned sternly. He held up his hands in surrender but winked at me, grinning widely.

I couldn’t even appreciate the renewed alliance. I was still too lost in the sudden upheaval of my entire life.

“I suppose the plans remain the same, though," Carlisle said thoughtfully. "We'll stay and watch. Obviously, no one will...hurt the boy.”

“Of course not,” Jasper agreed, nodding his head once. “If Alice only sees two ways, then it’s unnecessary to take matters into-”

“Shut up, Jazz,” I said numbly.

Everyone’s eyes flickered over to me.

I was just loving being the center of attention these days.

_If Alice only sees two ways..._

“You’re wrong,” I whispered. For the first time in my life, I was betting against Alice.

My psychic sister opened her mouth to protest but stopped after seeing either in her head or on my face that I wasn’t finished.

“I hardly know Edward. I don’t see how it could be possible for me to… develop any kind of… feelings for him. That’s entirely ridiculous. I mean, he’s… human! The only scenario that could potentially ever happen – which again, it’s absolutely implausible – would be if I were to _accidentally_ change him. And even then, I mean, why would I-... He’s so… That would be a complete mistake. A mistake greater than the one I made today. And I’m _very_ sorry to you all for how I’ve mutilated the future with my actions, but I’m going to fix it. I’ll leave-”

“You can’t,” Alice and Esme interrupted at the same time. My sister’s tone was one of annoyance while my mother’s was one of concern.

“You’re right,” I nodded, but my agreement wasn’t for the reasons Alice meant. I wasn’t considering my capability to leave based on my own will power against leaving the boy behind. That was something too complicated to unpack here in front of my family. Something that’d be better dealt with on the floor with my arms wrapped around my knees. I wouldn’t leave because it’d be more crucial for me to stay now. The responsible thing to do. “But I’ll try to...I _will_ stay away from Edward–” suddenly, I felt a desire to begin to distance myself from him and referring to him by his name felt too deeply personal, so I corrected myself, “–from the boy, I mean. It’s not right to condemn him to either fate. I won’t allow that to happen.”

As I spoke, Rosalie’s face softened and she materialized by my side, taking my hand.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve behaved today, Bella. I only spoke out of love for our family. But you’re right. It’s _not_ right. And I’m glad you’re choosing to do the right thing by staying away. I still don’t feel as though trusting him is responsible, but if what Alice has said is true-”

“I’m sorry, too,” I cut her off quietly, not wanting to hear the rest. I was feeling sorry for so much more than just how I spoke to Rose.

Esme appeared behind me as well, placing her hand encouragingly on my shoulder. “We are here to support you, Bella.”

“Thanks,” I murmured unenthusiastically.

Nobody moved again as they waited to see what I’d do next. I felt like a zoo animal.

I sighed, releasing Rose’s hand and shaking off Esme.

“If you don’t mind, I think I’d like to be by myself.”

“Of course,” Carlisle responded.

I crossed behind the west side of the table. Emmett let out a low, cartoony whistle of relief to break the tension, and I punched him on the arm as I passed.  
As I exited the room, Alice called, “wait!”

She was by my side in an instant.

“This is from the accident. It’s Edward’s. I thought maybe you’d want to return it to him.”

I looked down as she pulled my unresponsive hand away from my body to place the thick, chestnut journal I’d seen Edward reach for in his backseat right before the accident. I stared at her, impassive, so she sighed and wrapped my fingers around the worn leather to force it into my grip.

“Thanks,” I mumbled, turning and disappearing out of the house into the forest.

As I ran, I felt the weight of their eyes on me.


	6. Open Book

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the last time i wrote for this, it was BEFORE midnight sun came out. and now, midnight sun has been out for two weeks (oops...now FOUR weeks), i’ve finished it, i am miserable as a result, and finally, SHOOK. here’s why: in the last chapter, i mentioned esme’s aversion to having her floors ruined by rain. in midnight sun, edward mentioned that multiple times. MY MIND.
> 
> everyone reading this is thinking like, yeah, sure “your mind” OR you’re dumb and should not be finding any humor that your lizard brain came up with the same basic idea as smeyer, known racist. maybe esme was just written with hardly any personality so it wasn’t that difficult to end up concocting the same idea. and… okay, you’re right. but in those moments, let me tell you, i was really feeling something. smeyer, you reading this?
> 
> also to catch up since i’ve been busy, i reread my other chapters. and i really need to go back and edit them. so thank u for being here & bearing with me. hehe
> 
> also… the beige… that’s for y’all.
> 
> just a lil baby warning: there are conversations revolving around religion in this chapter. i wanted to mention that as a warning for the sake of anyone who has had negative experiences with church/religion (like me!) whom this topic makes uncomfortable. "you have been warned."

It was entirely unrealistic –– the possibility of running out of time –– but still, I expedited through the forest, the greenery blurring by me in long unfocused streaks. Although if I paid attention, I knew I’d still be able to see every microscopic detail. The fluffy moss growing along the trunks of the ground, the iridescent droplets of rain dotting the ferny leaves, the patterns in the wood of the trees. But I cared little to as I barreled forward, hurtling over uprooted trees and bounding over large pools of rainwater nestled in the muddy forest floor.

I lost a shoe leaping over the last fifty yard stretch of river, so I kicked the other off carelessly in midair. The shoe fell into the water with a powerful splash from the height. Alice could bite me later. I was in too great of a hurry to deal with her chastisement now. If she really cared for this pair of shoes, she could dive for it. _Alice!_ The thought of my sister made me realize a reason I could actually be late. I needed a change of clothes.

As I fell back to the earth, reaching a hand forward to grasp onto a convenient branch, I focused, envisioning my arrival at the house, the flight of the stairs, and the knock on the door of her room. I pictured asking her my request, and though I had no intention of actually following through with these steps, I hoped the thought was enough for Alice to see what I wanted. It should be, because if it wasn’t, I’d have to go into the house anyways, but I really didn’t want to waste time.

I swung lightly onto the bough of another spruce, and nimbly travelled this way from branch to branch, juggling the journal all the while by throwing it into the air between trees and catching it again. I could run fast and delicately enough to avoid muddying my feet, but with how unfocused I was in my hurry, I didn’t want to risk needing to stop to wash off.

If they hadn’t been concerned already, now would _really_ be the time that my family genuinely considered my descent into insanity, seeing me wildly and maniacally swing through the trees towards the house like Tarzan after having only melodramatically left hours prior.

I knew it wouldn’t last, but I felt somehow liberated by the realizations that I’d come to in my wintry jungle. After hours of considering the right way forward navigating my now complicated future, I’d decided to face it head on. To stubbornly confront the problem. I was tired of feeling unlike myself and feeling distanced from my family, though my new resolution might encourage the rift I’d only just mended with Rosalie. Even with my grievances, I still enjoyed this life, the strength I’d found in it. The sense of rightness and belonging that contrasted how I’d felt so weak and out of step as a human. I wanted to bask in that again. I wanted to take action.

I decided the best way to reattain that freedom was rather than leave the boy alone, I’d challenge the vision. Seek him out this morning. Return the journal to him. Sit beside him. And in my ability to do so, I’d then prove his irrelevance to me, his powerlessness over my self control.

And although it was still a ridiculous thought to entertain, if I did find in me some concern or care for him, then that’d be even better. It’d certainly be _strange,_ but it’d also strengthen my resolve to leave him be with his own life rather than make any choices he couldn’t even be knowledgeable enough about to consent to. Then, once I’d done so, I could truly leave him alone for good. I’d toyed with completely ignoring him from the beginning as I said I would, but then I decided that outcome wouldn’t develop from inaction. I was far too headstrong to leave this alone without trying to face it.

I will admit that a part of me was curious about Alice’s vision, curious about a friend or even a partner in this life… But the thought of Edward as that partner made me recoil. He was too irritating –– not the ideal candidate to spend an eternity with.

He was smart, though. And kind too, I noted, thinking of the way he’d cheered up the girl in the hospital… But definitely irritating. I’d have endless time to decode what had made him so relentless and smart-mouthed, but once I’d made the discovery, what then?

I had spent hours turning the little brown journal in my hands over and over, studying the worn leather, the folds and creases, tempted to open it and uncover his secrets. During an hour where I’d been resolved to go forth with pretending he didn’t exist, I’d even considered sneaking back to his house and finding my way in to leave the journal by his side so that I wouldn’t have to give it back to him myself in person. But that –– and also privily reading it without his permission –– seemed indefensibly invasive.

I didn’t mind being a vampire if that’s what I was. But that didn’t mean I had any desire to fulfill some of the creepier of the tropes.

Once I reached the tree closest to the garage, I tightroped onto a thin branch. Then, cautious as to not break it, I gently pushed down and sprung off, diving like a swimmer seventy feet down, the journal clasped between my outstretched hands. The distance was very short, and I landed softly, focusing greatly on doing so in a cautiously tactile way that wouldn’t cannonball me through the building and barreling into the ground. I rolled like a bowling ball to a stop on the vegetative, vine-covered roof in a cluster of silky honeysuckle and tickling lavender wisteria.

Even now all these years later, I felt kind of giddy at the impossible physics of my body’s capability for control, so I couldn’t help but laugh a little. I even laughed a little more thinking again of how my family might see my behavior –– me laughing here in the flowers –– as lunacy in how drastically it differed from the darkness of the personal rain cloud I’d been carrying over me.

From the house, I heard a deep chuckle and the sound of a scoff, confirming that I did have an audience. It must be Emmett mocking the impressiveness of my nosedive. I smiled, feeling very much like myself again.

I hopped off the roof to the ground and entered the garage. Sure enough, Alice had laid out a small pile of clothes for me for the upcoming school day. I stripped, unceremoniously dropping the garments I was wearing into a pile on the floor and reached for the clothing. Then, I groaned.

“Alice!” I hissed her name like an expletive. I thought we’d moved past my sister’s insistence on using me as her personal doll, but it seemed this was her attempt for a revival. Maybe she was determined to punish me for the way I’d destroyed my shoes. Rather than a sensible sweater and jeans, Alice had taken advantage of my hurried need and elected to pick out a cropped turtleneck sweater and a mini skirt, both black. The sweater wasn’t awful in that the crop wouldn’t be exposing with the high waist of the skirt, but the bodycon fit of the skirt, the crocodile print of the polyurethane, and the ludicrous split up the side… Alice was deranged. This had to have come from her own closet.

She had the good sense to include sheer black tights to hide some of the disconcerting flawlessness and freaky whiteness of my skin –– not that that would matter much in how off-putting and contrasting I’d look in all black anyways –– but I’d have preferred converse over the matching black boots. At least the heel of the boot was more reasonable than I’d expect from her. Not more reasonable than converse, though.

I imagined showing up to Edward’s house. _Hey, Edward! Here I am to drive you to school, pale and ridiculous. Also, I’m a vampire. Here’s your journal._

I considered the short run to my room in the house, but again, I was already running late…

I tugged the clothes on and hopped into the pearly white car, throwing the journal into the passenger seat. As I reversed out of the garage, I felt thankful for the engine upgrades Rosalie worked on that allowed for the instant rapidity of the acceleration.

I spun sharply, letting the car spin out with an obnoxiously loud screech until I was facing the long drive away from the house. In the rearview mirror, I watched as Rosalie entered the garage, her golden eyes shocked and her mouth open as I sped away.

My reckless driving only warranted a few irritated honks on my way to Edward’s house through the morning traffic –– one dark green Honda specifically gave me a long piece of their mind when I cut them off –– before I was whipping around the corner onto his street.

Just as I pulled in front of the lonely house, I watched as Edward casually jogged down the steps of his porch, his sleek backpack hanging carelessly off one shoulder and an apple in his hand.

His tangle of bronze hair was like a low burning flame against the muted monochromatism of the grey house and the grey sky and the grey pavement. Today, he wore a light tan turtleneck that clung tightly to his chest, slim beige trousers, and a long black coat that ended above the knees. His fancy belt, his long socks, and his suede boots were all black too. I didn’t particularly consider him to be someone who cared much about what others thought about him, but he seemed pretty meticulously dressed. I wondered if he dressed to impress others or dressed for himself. Neither decision particularly mattered, but it’d been so long since I thought about something so human –– the thought process of selecting what to wear and considering how you wanted to present yourself.

The clothes I wore ceased to matter long ago. I never particularly had an interest in fashion, so it was easy to allow Alice to select my wardrobe. And for the most part, she got it right. Only when I found her selections to be impractical, such as today, did I really care. But it was a rarity that she tried to push me too far out of my comfort zone anymore. She’d given up on me, or maybe she had just become more clever about finding the right opportunities to dress me in something absurd… I liked things that I could easily move around in.

Alice would approve of his outfit, I thought. Maybe if he liked fashion, they really would get along. But that didn’t matter because I had no intentions of involving Alice and her freaky little visions in my experiment.

Seeing me parked there, he froze for a moment, before his lips curved into a huge smile. Edward laughed, throwing his apple up in the air and catching it again. He half-jogged forward to meet me. I took a deep, clean breath full of the leather scents of the car’s interior and rolled down the window, leaning forward towards him.

Edward bent over so that his head could duck down to see my face through the window, and he shook his head again, chuckling.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Hello, Edward,” I smiled pleasantly, trying to play nice.

He eyed me suspiciously, but the glint in his pretty green eyes was teasing, the grin that lit them up never fading.

“I’ve come to bring you this, fresh from the scene of the crime––“ I grasped hold of the leather bound book in my hand, raising it up to wave it before setting it back down, “––and to offer you a ride to school. I’m sure it’d be a humbling experience for you to walk, but I felt bad about your pretty car being flattened like a pancake.”

“You’re not irritated with me?” Edward asked, slightly cocking his head to the side.

“Are _you_ irritated with _me?”_ I countered.

“Never,” he beamed.

“Well, then we can call a truce,” I half smiled. “You’re not curious as to why I’m forcing you to carpool, making your getting to school my business?”

“The wasting of finite resources is everyone’s business. But of course, I am curious.” 

“As usual,” I mumbled under my breath. Hesitantly, I breathed in. It was like pulling the chord on a hot-air ballon with the way his scent ripped my throat into flames. I was grateful for the distraction of someone grumbling to themself as they turned onto the street, because instead of spiraling, I was able to instead laugh as I realized who I had cut off a few traffic lights ago. I looked in the rearview mirror and sure enough recognized Sara, the sandy blonde, driving the ugly green Honda.

“Hmm… Well, I wouldn’t want to upset your girlfriend––” I bit my lip momentarily to keep myself from laughing, “––so I wouldn’t be offended if you said no.”

“Who?” Edward asked, but his smile had faded as his eyes watched my lips intently.

He looked back into my eyes after a second, blinking as he realized I was staring at him staring at me, then up at the car awkwardly pulling in behind me.

“Oh,” he chuckled as he realized who I meant. “I’ll be just a moment.”

I watched in my side-view mirror as Edward approached Sara on the drivers’ side.

“Hey, Sara,” he said as she cranked her window down.

“Hey, Ed,” she grumbled, kind of irritated. I should have felt guilty for disrupting her plan, but her irritation with Edward instead provoked my nerves. Also, the fact that she called him _Ed_ bothered me too. “I guess you made it out alive. I’d have been here sooner, but Cullen cut me off. I got suck at a red light.”

“Did she?” Edward laughed. “Well, I’m really sorry, Sara. This is so nice of you, but Bella offered to drive me to school today. I’d cancel now that you’re here, but after she saved my life, I’d feel terrible doing so. Is it alright if I see you at school?”

“Yeah, that’s fine,” she snapped, trying to seem unbothered despite the tightness of her jaw and the edge in her voice.

“I’m sorry again, Sara. I really appreciate that you came here,” Edward smiled a dazzling smile.

“No big deal. I’ll see you at school,” she lifted the corners of her lips once before turning away, her mouth in a tight line.

He sighed watching as she drove past me and away before a crooked smile reappeared on his face as he walked back to my car. I didn’t have time to wonder if he would have preferred to ride with her. It didn’t seem likely.

“…Ed?” I asked as he crossed back to the passenger side.

“You heard that?” Edward chuckled. He slid his backpack off his back, opened the door, and dipped his tall frame into the car. He picked up the journal before settling into the passenger’s side, adjusting the seat to make room for his legs and backpack. “I’m not particularly fond of that nickname. Or any, for that matter. My mother called me Teddy sometimes. I prefer Edward.”

“I do too,” I agreed, breathing in the potency of his fragrance. I clutched the steering wheel tightly and swallowed dryly.

“So,” he began once he was comfortable. “Are you feeling more open today?”

“No,” I answered as I began to drive towards the school.

Edward sighed, but he shook his head, amused. Clearly, he’d decided to play nice too. “Do you ever get tired of ambiguity, Bella?”

_Yes._

“No,” I teased, rolling my eyes. “I enjoy being mysterious far too much.”

“Mysterious enough to keep me up at night,” he egged on.

“I’m sure you slept just fine.”

“How’d you sleep?” Edward asked. I looked over at him, ignoring the tingling of my tongue in anticipation of the taste of his sweet blood. I should have thought of a response, but I was too busy fighting off my instincts to think of a lie. His pretty eyes narrowed in thought as he analyzed my face and the dark circles beneath my golden eyes.

Suddenly, I froze, my muscles locking down as he reached forward, his hand gently touching my hair. I didn’t dare breathe as the heat of his skin enveloped me in warmth. His hand lingered for a moment before it pulled back, holding up a broken piece of fern.

“You had a leaf in your hair. How’d that get there?” Edward almost whispered, his lips curved into a half-smile.

A strange electricity throbbed through my body, and the sensation was so odd. Like my heartbeat should be thrumming loudly in my ears. Deafening. But my heart was frozen and dead, so I only heard the beat of Edward’s. We sat in silence for a moment as my mind spun in the dizziness.

“Maybe I should have accepted Sara’s offer,” he joked after a moment, laughing, but I wondered what he made of the affliction I was trying to hide on my face. Around him, no matter my attempts at subterfuge, it felt as though my face was an open book in which he could read all my secrets. I refocused my eyes on the road, too distracted by the warmth of his pale face and the prettiness of his green eyes as the forest flew by in the window behind him.

“Maybe,” I agreed, smiling softly, smiling sadly. _Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you should jump out of the car and run before I accidentally kill you._

“But,” he mused gently, trying to keep the mood light and playful. “She probably doesn’t have heated seats.”

His effort to comfort the conflict raging within me that he didn’t even understand worked. I snorted.

I continued driving, thinking of ways to bring up the journal.

“You look lovely today, by the way,” he smiled, appraising me. “Which is not to say that you don’t on any other day, but you do look very pretty.”

I felt oddly incomplete as I waited for reactions my body was no longer capable of. Reactions I’d forgotten. There was another strange sensation in my cheeks as if they should be very warm.

My head whipped towards him in surprise, my eyebrows pulling up.

“What?” He immediately asked in shock, his heart beat picking up. My reaction didn’t totally alarm him though, because his lips were still pulled up at the corners. Edward seemed to always be smiling. Or maybe smirking was the better word. “Do you not get compliments often? I find that rather hard to believe.”

“No, it’s not that,” I relaxed my face. “I was just caught off guard. _Lovely_ …That wasn’t particularly something I’d expect a seventeen year old boy to say.”

“Oh,” he relaxed, easily grinning again.

 _“Are_ you even seventeen?” I found myself smiling in return.

“Are you?” He countered.

My mood darkened as my lips dropped immediately, but I fixed the smile back onto my face so he couldn’t see how exposed I felt.

“You know, my mom used to say that I was born thirty five years old, and that I get more middle-aged every year.”

“Hmm…” Edward nodded, his eyes narrowed again as he scrutinized me. I wondered if this clarified some assumption he’d made about me.

I turned into the school parking lot. I saw the gleaming cherry redness of Rosalie’s ostentatious car and desperately hoped she was already inside one of the brick buildings.

“So,” he prompted, his tone mysteriously patronizing. “Did you read this?”

I glanced over to see the accusation in his eyes as he held up the journal, but he didn’t seem angry whatsoever. They were still light. Still playful.

“What? No, of course not,” I defended myself. But my voice was unpersuasive, the pitch coming out a little too high to give my words any credibility.

I parked beside Rosalie. The car was luckily empty, so I relaxed my grip on the steering wheel. Ha! As if my sister would have confronted me here, and I’d have driven away, effectively kidnapping Edward… I scoffed at myself. I clenched the hand Edward couldn’t see into a tight fist, concentrating all of my strength in my fight against temptation into the way my fingers dug into my palm.

I turned my face to look at Edward, whose face was condescending, his thick eyebrows pulled up in disbelief.

“I’m serious! Maybe I look guilty because I _considered_ it, but I didn’t actually follow through.”

His face relaxed into a crooked smile. “Okay, I believe you. I’d have forgiven you anyways.”

“Does that mean if I ask you about the contents, you’ll share?” I asked eagerly. I’d read so many books in my life that this new mystery novel easily became just like another book I was dying to read.

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head, chuckling. Edward reached for his bag, winking at me, and opened his door, ducking his head to get out. I swiftly undid my seatbelt and was out beside him probably much too fast, my backpack slung onto my shoulder. For a moment, I wondered if my siblings needed their useless backpacks too since we typically drove this car to school, but I figured Alice must have rescued them from the trunk after seeing my plans for this morning.

He blinked, looking down at where I suddenly appeared.

“Why?” I inhaled through my mouth, grateful for the influx of fresh rainwater and firs that helped dilute Edward’s scent.

His heart thrummed in his chest, and being so close to him, the sound was like thunder surrounding me as I listened, becoming attuned to it. The splash of puddles as tires hightailed through the parking lot, the slam of locker doors as students got their books, and the chatter of kids as they entered the school all seemed like irrelevant ambiance now.

“Because,” Edward breathed. His breath was shaky, but his face remained cool. The sweetness of the smell washed over my face, and I clenched my fist again. “That wouldn’t be fair whatsoever.”

“And why not?” I demanded.

“You expect me to entrust you with all of my secrets when you won’t trust me with just one of yours?”

He wasn’t wrong. But I couldn’t exactly divulge anything about the accident. I was already breaking too many rules. My own rules. My own promises I’d made to my family.

“How about…” I considered, though my thoughts were headed in a dangerous direction. “If you happen to have any theories, you can share one, and I’ll either confirm or deny it.”

“Just one?”

“Yes.”

“How is that worth the very much intimate documentation of my entire mind, Bella? That’s hardly sufficient.”

“Fine, I don’t care about your stinking journal,” I snapped, stubbornly poking my chin in the air a fraction.

He surprised me by actually throwing his head back to laugh.

“Are you done?” I asked.

“You’ve got a bit of a temper, don’t you?” he considered this for a moment, beaming. “Okay, I’ll accept these conditions. But later.”

“Later?” I demanded, feeling a sense of injustice as I froze in place. He continued forward and took a bite of his apple. The juice spilled out sweetly into the air, but the fragrance was unappetizing and certainly not as sweet as Edward’s blood.

“Thank you for the ride, Bella. I’ll see you in biology.” Again, he winked, walking backwards. He saluted me, waving once with the journal in his other hand and then turned around, clearly enjoying having the upper hand as he and temptation disappeared into the crowd of students.

I stood there, my mouth propped open. The sensation of being watched started to creep up on me and sure enough, I turned to find Rosalie ten yards away outside of the building to her first period. Her eyes were dark, cold, and fierce with betrayal. Guiltily, I looked away and headed off towards my first class.

Throughout my morning classes, I tried not to think about my family’s –– or rather, _Rosalie’s ––_ opinions on my decision this morning. At this, I failed miserably. As I imagined explaining how really if I _didn’t_ stay away from the boy, it would prove that I actually could leave him alone and exercise control against Alice’s visions, I started to find my logic extremely flawed and unbelievable. Maybe I was making a mistake. Maybe I was just too pigheaded. I tried not to think about this too.

Instead, I thought again about the secrets of his journal. Wasn’t this essentially the symbol of everything I’d been obsessing over? All of my wonderings and curiosities as for why he was so annoying and his eyes so perceptive could all be unraveled in that little book. I wondered if I’d be disappointed once the mystery was unveiled. Maybe the journal –– and by extension, Edward himself –– was not as interesting as I thought. I may have just been fixating on this because it was something different. But I told myself it’d be better for me to be disappointed. The sooner I could move on with my life.

Throughout the day, a couple of the braver students asked for details about the accident but became disappointed when I didn’t offer up the dramatics they were hoping for. I felt too shameful to discredit Edward’s accounts, so I irresponsibly dismissed the opportunities to ensure the accident yesterday hadn’t exposed anything unusual about me or my family. Eventually, as my monotonous account of the events spread through the tiny school, kids stopped asking.

I was impatient to get to biology, but before then, I’d have to face my siblings at lunch. When the bell rang after fifth period, I walked much too quickly to the cafeteria, dreading arriving but very much eager to get it over with. As I weaseled my way through the hallway –– which wasn’t difficult because even in the familiarity of the school, we were typically provided a wide berth –– I overheard the conversation of two other juniors. I froze in place as my plans shifted for the day. They discussed the difficulty of today’s biology pop exam, and I realized I wouldn’t have the hour of the day the school allotted to speak with Edward, the excuse I could provide my family in my defense. A freshman nearly rammed into me from behind, not expecting my sudden stop. Whoever it was recoiled immediately.

Well, I wasn’t going to miss out on whatever explanation he planned to provide because of some trivial pop exam. I rearranged my lunch plans, appreciating the excuse to postpone another family confrontation. We could battle it out at the long oval table later if necessary.

I entered the cafeteria and was second in the lunch line, only selecting a glass lemonade bottle so that the emptiness in front of me wouldn’t be unnerving for Edward. I figured it’d be more disconcerting to leave a tray of food in front of me untouched. I headed to a round table in the corner that was typically empty. This wouldn’t surprise my family when they entered. Alice would warn them.

I sat waiting as students filed in, either joining the growing line or meeting at their usual tables with their friends. I avoided Rosalie’s eyes when she entered the room, but I could still feel the iciness of her stare. I listened for Edward’s deep and soft voice to indicate his arrival, then when I couldn’t find it, instead listened for Sara’s to see if she may be with him. Sara was a loud, babbling talker, so it was easy to find her voice in the crowd of the hallway. She seemed to have gotten over her irritation from this morning as she animatedly spoke about some research she’d done the night prior into some potential colleges she might apply to.

I found that although I may feel some irrational resentment of her ability to be so close to Edward, I liked Sara. Maybe we would have even been friends if I was a human. And if her proximity to him didn’t bother me. She was prattling on about her dream of becoming a veterinarian, and her goals seemed so sincere that I almost felt guilty finding any enjoyment in having stolen Edward from her this morning.

But that didn’t mean I didn’t have intentions to do so again.

As I suspected, when Sara walked through the double doors, Edward was by her side. He was actively listening to her words –– always so polite to anyone who wasn’t me –– but once inside the lunch room, his eyes immediately flashed to the table in which my siblings were settling into. His thick eyebrows pulled together in confusion –– and maybe even disappointment? –– at the realization he didn’t find me there.

I was impatient as he purchased his lunch. Once he’d left the line, he still hadn’t noticed me sitting here. Maybe he was less perceptive than I gave him credit for. I felt a moment of awkwardness as I thought about having to get up, walk across the cafeteria, and ask him to join me in front of my family. I would still have done so, but I was immensely relieved when Sara noticed me.

“Are you eating lunch with Bella too?” The sandy blonde asked, her tone suddenly indignant. This time, I felt no pleasure in my thievery. Sara was right to want to reserve Edward to her human world, but I was too entranced with the mystery of his journal and the mystery of his mind to care.

Edward looked up, searching. His sage eyes were bright and animated once he found me here at the table. He held his tray in one large hand while combing the other through his untidy bronze hair. The arrogant confidence in his face made me smirk, and I rolled my eyes, lifting my hand to beckon him forward twice with my finger as if I was reluctantly pacifying a child.

“I guess so,” he laughed a little as he sauntered forward towards the table, leaving Sara behind gawking. I braced myself for the onslaught, inhaling one last fresh breath of air. How habitual this was becoming.

“I’m being gifted your presence outside of our biology class twice in one day? What did I do to deserve this?” He teased once he’d arrived, standing behind the seat across from me.

“Nearly die. I guess that’s a fair enough price to pay for my company,” I played along. If only he knew how true that still was. He grinned, his perfect teeth white and shiny. “Oh, don’t look so smug. I’m only here to uncover a mystery.”

“As am I,” he reminded me. I winced.

“Are you going to sit down?” I asked. He still stood behind the seat, tall and lean, a giant like my brothers. Not quite as towering and much slimmer, but still, I felt small in my seat looking up at him.

Edward leaned down to carefully place his tray on the laminate before comfortably settling into his seat as if we’d done this before. I glanced at his tray, curious as to his selection. A bottle of water, a grilled chicken salad, and a bag of dried fruit. I stared at the food for a moment as if this would provide me any clues about his mind.

“So,” he began. I looked up to meet his eyes and though I knew he’d be looking at me, I felt a jolt pulse through me. He caught something about my reaction, and a crooked smile appeared on his face.

“So,” I continued. “You were going to tell me about your journal.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But I believe we agreed on a condition, did we not?”

“We did,” I admitted. “Go ahead.”

“Hmm… I’m not sure I’m actually ready to, Bella,” he pondered, and I felt odd again hearing him say my name.

“Why not?” I demanded, restless. Of course I was interested in the book, but I was also definitely interested in his theories. I couldn’t believe it had only been yesterday that the accident occurred. It felt like a lifetime ago. The same way that first day in biology did.

“I’ve only been given about twenty four hours to come up with any explanations.”

“And have you?”

“Maybe, but I have a feeling you’ll be very firm on only allowing one theory, so I want to hold out for the theory I’m most confident on.”

I frowned, and Edward laughed.

“Don’t worry though. I’ll tell you about my journal anyways. As long as you promise–– no, that’d be letting you off too easily. As long as you _swear_ to me that you won’t forget your end of the deal.”

“I swear,” I promised, smiling at the silliness of his command. I took this moment to breath in his powerful scent, to wrestle with my desire.

“Hmm… I wonder if it’ll upset you,” his forehead crumped in thought. My patience was wearing so thin that the inexorable cloud of lust for his blood had little impact in comparison to the sudden aggravation at his procrastination.

“Oh, Edward!” I groaned, exasperated. “Would you just tell me? What could possibly upset me?”

For whatever reason, Edward burst into laughter at my outburst and couldn’t seem to stop.

I glared at him, and he tried to choke back his humor unsuccessfully. The irritation in my eyes didn’t deter him or instill any sense of fear in him. Briefly, I wondered if he was mentally sound.

“Okay, well, you can just go eat lunch with your little friends, and I’ll stay here and talk to myself.”

“Don’t be mad,” he pleaded as another laugh escaped. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help myself. You’re just _so_ impatient. And for what? My uninteresting little journal?”

“You’re annoying, did you know that?”

“Maybe, but you’ve chosen to sit here with me, so you must like me for some reason,” he pointed out. For some reason indeed. Once again, he was right on target. My mouth gaped open.

“Okay, I’m getting up––”

“No, please, Bella. I’ll behave myself now. I’ll tell you about my journal. I’ll tell you anything you want to know.” His smile was dazzling, and his eyes were fierce, sweet, and sincere. I was mesmerized, stuck in the seat across from him.

“Okay,” I said stupidly.

“My journal,” he began seriously, “is sort of a Bible.”

I waited for him to laugh again.

“No, really,” Edward did laugh but not as though he’d told a joke. “I know that’s kind of strange.”

Religion had never been a major facet of my life. A dozen memories flickered through my mind of the times as a human where my mother Renée had gone through impassioned phases where she attended church, trying on multiple denominations and religions for size. But just like the rest of her sudden and fleeting interests, her spiritual high wore off, and we never spoke about God or church again. Only when I became immortal did religion take a more permanent place in my thoughts. But it was only the proximity to Carlisle that made me consider spiritual beliefs, and even then, it was simply another topic to devote thought to in all the endless space in my head and all the endless time in which to fill it.

I didn’t know particularly what I believed nor if I cared much, but I did know that if Edward was religious enough to tote around a bible at school, he’d definitely not be pleased to know he sat across from an actual vampire.

“You carry around a bible?”

“Well, don’t make any judgments yet, alright? It’s not exactly a bible. It’s kind of difficult to explain.”

“I think I can keep up,” I said simply, feeling slightly awkward but still curious. I glanced down at his untouched food. “But you should probably eat.”

“And what about you?” He asked, eyeing my full lemonade bottle.

I unscrewed the tin cap for his benefit. Following my lead, he opened the plastic container of his salad. I waited impatiently as he slowly ate his food.

I watched him as he ate, but when his eyes flickered curiously up to me, I fixated my attention on the lemonade bottle, tracing the mouth of it with my pinky finger.

After a few moments, Edward spoke up. “What are you thinking?”

I looked up to meet his light green gaze and felt stuck there again, compelled to reveal everything.

“I’m trying to figure out what you think I am,” I admitted only one of my concerns, though even this was much too honest. I thought of the inspiration he could draw from his religious text. The second beast. The Nephilim. Cherubim. Demons. Even though I didn’t have a true understanding of the contents of the book, some of Carlisle’s paintings had provided me with enough of an idea.

“I’m not having much luck with that yet,” he answered.

I laughed, relieved. “Well, you _have_ only been given twenty four hours.”

“What else are you thinking?” he asked again, sensing there was more.

I sighed, feeling uncomfortable under his analyzation. The weight of his watchful eyes was too penetrative.

“That a boy who carries around a bible probably wouldn’t like me very much.”

“Why? Are you a sinner?” He smiled teasingly, but his eyes were soft as he tried to pull me again from the gloominess that seemed to steal me away.

“Something like that.”

“Well, aren’t we all?”

“Not all dogs go to heaven,” I answered. He chuckled at how I butchered the expression.

“Hmm… I’m not sure if I absolutely believe in a heaven, but if I do, I think the prerequisites to make it in are much broader than the Christian faith teaches.”

“You carry around a bible but don’t believe in heaven?”

“I said I’m unsure. And I said it was difficult to explain, didn’t I?”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

“I hardly understand what you mean the majority of the time either.”

We both laughed, and the synchronicity of the moment made me forget my intentions with bothering him in the first place. It made me realize that in a way, I actually did feel fondly of Edward.

“Here, I’ll explain. I’m done eating anyways.” He used a napkin to dab at the corners of his mouth, then pushed it away on top of his lunch tray.

“My mother was very religious,” Edward began. “She wasn’t pious or bigoted or forceful about her beliefs. She was kind… devout. She believed in goodness. Her entire life had been dedicated to caring for other people. She wasn’t someone whose true intentions were to condemn others with the hope to save them from hell. Rather, she seemed more focused on saving someone from unhappiness. A lot of other believers have been known to connect with someone only for the end goal of forcing them to change the way they live for the sake of feeling as though they saved them. She had always been offended by this insistence to control another’s lifestyle, believing that any Child of God should truly only be concerned with loving others.

“I have pages of verses ripped out from her bible stuck throughout my journal. It may seem sacrilegious to destroy a bible in that way, but she’d read through it so many times that it had completely fallen apart. I tried to save it when she died, but there was no hope to. It was too dilapidated and tattered. So in my own journal, I have all these notes I’ve written on the notes she wrote in her bible. All these confusing erratic writings, these scribbles, I’ve been trying to sort out, just trying to figure out how to be a good person.”

At the end of his speech, my mouth dropped open. Quickly, I closed it again.

“So, do _you_ believe in a god?” I asked after a few moments of silence.

“I’m not sure what I believe. If you don’t believe that all this world could have just happened on its own, which is hard for me to accept myself, then a god seems to be just as reasonable an answer as anything else. But I do believe in science as well. And once again, I don’t believe that any higher being who created the entire universe would be so particular and unyielding on such frivolous, harmless human matters as to what you do…or who you love… I’m hesitant to speak about god publicly, not because I fear any kind of persecution for my complicated beliefs, but because I know that the church has caused a lot of damage to a lot of people. And I don’t want anyone to think I support any of that harm. But for innocent believers, I see nothing wrong with wanting a reason to hold onto hope if that’s what religion is for them.”

“Neither do I,” I agreed, thinking of Carlisle.

“I think at the core of any religion –– and I definitely am interested in studying other religions as well –– is the same message. To do good by others and yourself. Of course, historically, religion has been weaponized as a means to take control over innocent people, but in considering people like my mother… I sincerely hope that there is a god. For her sake.”

I didn’t know what to say.

“Don’t worry.” Edward smiled his crooked smile. “I’m not about to try and sell you some religious propaganda. At no point will I sit you down and ask, ‘do you mind if I take a moment to speak about our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ?’ That’s never been my mission. I’m not entirely certain whether or not I even consider myself religious.”

“So what is your mission then with the journal?”

“Perhaps this will sound a little pretentious, but it’s not so much that I’m curious about the chicken or the egg scenario… Evolution versus creation… I don’t care very much as to how we got here. I guess because my mother believed so profusely, and I consider her to be such a great person, I’m curious as to whether our morality is innate as people, or if all goodness is because we have some kind of spirit within us leading us to want to do right by other people. I think overall, it _is_ innate. An atheistic individual can do wonderful things for the world just as someone who claims to love Jesus can do terrible things. I don’t think anyone who doesn’t believe chooses to do good _for_ God, but I wonder if that innate sense of morality, sense of compassion is ingrained into us because of the fact we _do_ have souls. So the question I’ve been trying to answer all these years is… do we? Does my mother die, fade to nothing, with her body? Or did she live on because she had a soul?”

“Those are big questions for a seventeen year old.”

“Those are big questions for anybody, no matter their age. And questions humankind has been trying to answer for thousands of years,” Edward chuckled, shaking his head. “I don’t expect to be the one to stumble upon the answers. More so, I’m really trying to find some purpose in my mother’s life. I do want to honor her, and maybe if I can understand all the things she wrote about people and about God, then I can.”

“So what do _you_ write?”

“I write my thoughts on what she journaled about. And I write about all the good things I see someone do. About the reasons why I think they did them… I study people a lot.”

“Do you ever feel creepy?” I asked.

“Sometimes,” he laughed. “I mean, it’s not that I’d be the type to watch someone while they sleep. But if someone comforts a friend, picks up a stray piece of trash off the ground, smiles at a stranger… I try to take notice. I want to notice people.”

Edward sighed. “I know this must sound arrogant, but I really do believe I’m very sensitive to the thoughts of other people. At least, I try to be. For example, I know Sara must not be very happy that I chose to ride with you this morning, or that I am sitting with you now. I’m not oblivious to her feelings for me. But it’d be very ungentlemanly of me to accuse her of those feelings if she prefers to keep them secretive, so I’ll define a boundary if needed to protect her feelings whenever _she_ chooses to come forth about them. I’d like to retain our friendship, but I still make my own choices.”

“So…” I began, ignoring his point about Sara. “Let’s say we all did have souls. Could someone lose that soul by any chance?”

“Hmm…” he thought, his eyes intent, piercing into mine as though he were trying to read my mind. “Now, _that’s_ a big question for a seventeen year old.”

I laughed along with him.

“Well, I’m not sure whether or not you can _lose_ your soul –– if we have them, of course. Perhaps you could damage the integrity of it or compromise it somehow. Could it be lost in death? If there is something of a heaven, does that automatically imply the existence of a hell? What purpose does hell serve in torturing one’s soul for eternity? Justice? Do some people perhaps deserve that fate? I want to say no, but then you think of awful, malicious people who have done awful, malicious things. Murder. Genocide. Rape. Isn’t the losing of your soul in death, fading into nonexistence too easy of a punishment? Do _those_ people warrant a judge, jury, and executioner? I would hope that there _are_ consequences to evil actions, but I don’t understand the idea that if such a place exists for the most vile of humanity, nonbelievers and sinners would go to the same place as well according to the Christian faith. I would say on that front, the Bible must be profoundly off. That aspect has to be invented by man for a means of control. What creator would wish such a fate on someone so innocent as to simply be uncertain about a god? So does a nonbeliever or sinner simply cease to exist, therefore losing their soul? Or is there some kind of alternative? Like a purgatory in the Catholic faith. That too seems a cruel fate from what should be a loving God.”

I felt slightly uneasy, wondering what he would think of my non-life, if he would consider this to be the alternative for innocent sinners. I wondered if he would believe I had a soul.

Edward softened his expression at my discomfort. His eyes were gentle and kind.

“But I don’t think I believe that. Like I said, I think the division between good and bad, right and wrong, is less black and white than most religious people believe. I think it’s gray, and I think any higher power would realize that too. So if you’re making that face because you’ve sinned a little here and there or murdered somebody, maybe you can make a comeback.”

Edward winked, and I forced myself to laugh.

“So would yesterday earn me some points?”

“Oh, definitely. You’ve practically merited an angel status.”

This time I did genuinely laugh at the thought of me as an angel.

“But again, as for what’s considered sin… I don’t subscribe to the majority of what’s considered biblical canon.”

“You don’t have to continue with the disclaimers. I believe that you’re not judging my sinful ways.”

“Correction, I don’t believe that God themself is judging you for your sinful ways. I never said anything about my judgment of you.”

I bit my bottom lip to keep from smiling at the smirk on his face. “I’m not at all surprised that you have a god complex. That seems about right –– you do come off like the type to be very judgmental.”

“I’m notoriously difficult to impress,” Edward half-smiled. “Are we continuing this conversation in Biology, or are you growing tired of the dark and the heavy?”

“Not yet,” I answered. “But I overheard that we have a pop quiz, so you’ll have to save your pretty boy disciple thoughts for later.”

He chuckled as I stood up from the table, reaching to grab my untouched lemonade bottle and cap to throw away, then stopped me.

“I’ve got it,” Edward placed the bottle on his tray to dump into the garbage. I watched curiously as he pocketed the bottle cap.

“I’d say thank you, but I know you’re only trying to win points in the eyes of God.”

“Anything to get into heaven,” he laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y’all know i had to make edward a lil christian boy. u know edward is the i wanna church girl who go to church… and reaaaad her biiiible vine. i do want to clarify again… unlike stephenie mormon, i have no agenda in speaking about religion in this fanfic. i’m not particularly fond of labels, but i am more agnostic than anything so… i’m not tryna convert anybody to anything. it just seemed very “classically edward” as rosalie would say. i hope u enjoyed! i also wanted to say i really, really appreciate the comments! i haven't replied bc... i'm shy but i read them & truly feel very flattered. ♡


	7. A Cruel God, a Wrathful Goddess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> oof... sometimes u get distracted and then ur sister gets married and then u get unmotivated & d*pressed and forget to update ur fanfic for over three months... my bad y'all... sorry for the wait hehe. i hope it is worth it. again, i'm so thankful for the comments & i read them all. i get too shy to respond, but i WILL. i just need to talk myself up first. i love u. thank u. hehe. ♡♡♡  
> merry christmas/happy holidays if i fail u again before the 25th. i WANT to update more frequently. my catchphrase these days is "i'm trying my best," so... i'm trying my best.
> 
> this is for the sweet anons who slide into my ask box & ask me questions abt my fanfic. and for taryn, who consistently reminds me that there are people wanting to read this seeing as she is one of those people, kim, who i am so desperate to impress that i began working on a new chapter once she started to read my fanfic, and kae, because without her, this fanfic would never have existed in the first place. i love how i'm writing this as though it's the intro to an actual book when it's literally just chapter seven. ok, i will shut up now so u can read. love u. again.

In great contrast to the noisy ambience of the other students in the hallway, we were silent on our walk to our shared biology class. I wondered how conscious Edward was of the stares and whispers focused on our proximity to one another, but my guess was that he was _very_ much conscious of it. I intentionally ignored glancing in any direction that I sensed one of my siblings’ presence, although I figured it was mostly paranoia driving me to feel as though we were about to cross paths. Holding my breath to more easily walk beside Edward left my senses impaired to the ability to pinpoint their location.

I was lucky that for the majority of my immortal life, I’d managed to escape unwanted attention. But now, it seemed that precious luck had finally run out. Maybe embarrassment had been creeping up on me, maliciously building itself up all these years, waiting until just the right moment to rear its ugly head and exact revenge that immorality had stolen its favorite object of humiliation to torment. But here it was, ensuring that I was finally catching up on feeling awkward and out of step, a feeling I experienced for what seemed like the entirety of my human life. I thought once I’d been changed, I’d never feel this way again, but becoming misaligned with my family made me feel bashful to parade my defiance in their faces. I had operated better under no scrutiny as a mortal and was surprised to realize that that still held true as an immortal as well. Because though there was now never a struggle of staying upright or a risk of tripping over my own feet, that didn’t prevent me from feeling self-conscious as I walked beside Edward. Although for different reasons –– it was too mortifying to consider what my family might make of what my actions suggested about my feelings towards Edward.

And yet still, I would put up with the ridicule and disapproval of my siblings if it meant I could listen to Edward speak his silly philosophical theology, his questioning of god and existence, for just a few more hours. If I were going to be teased over Alice’s visions regardless, I might as well find out what I can about this pretentious boy before I leave him alone forever. If only to understand why his moving to this small town threatened to warp my own future so much. In losing night and in losing death, there were so very little anomalies in the endless amount of time I’d been given. So what would it hurt to allow myself to fixate on this minuscule difference in my life for just awhile?

 _It could hurt Edward,_ a more selfless part of myself reminded me. If indulging myself was playing with fire, I was being justly punished with the way flames were efflorescing the inside of my dry, burning throat.

If a god did exist, why would it make sense for such a being to craft someone like Edward with his perceptivity, and send him off to this small town, home to a secret such as ours? If a god did exist, why it would be fair for such a being to craft someone like Edward, someone who tempted me both in bloodlust and in curiosity, and send him off to this small town, home to the very vampire who desperately wished to kill him most? If a god did exist, if our kind had fallen short of heaven, I could understand why sending Edward into our path –– and more specifically, my path –– could be some kind of punishment. But what I couldn’t understand is why a god would allow someone as innocent as Edward to be endangered for the sake of bringing a sinful, undead creature to justice. It seemed the only reasonable explanation would be that a god probably did not exist.

And how could there be? I was on the precipice of falling into temptation with every step further in the hallway and every question he asked and answered. I could never not be very much aware of the fact –– especially now with his body merely inches from my side and his sweet fragrance blooming both deliciously and relentlessly in the air. And even as I impossibly withstood the lure of his blood, how was I meant to ignore the irresistibility of his mind and how inexplicably concerned I was to understand it? It seemed like a very cruel experiment of free will and knowledge –– far too cruel to allow much room for the kind of god Edward hoped for.

I frowned as I realized that this experiment wasn’t that of a cruel god’s but that of a cruel vampire, and I felt very much like a vampire as the sound of his heartbeat was so appealing that it made my mouth water.

“Do the stares bother you?” Edward spoke quietly to me as we weaved throughout the hallway. Easily distracted, his question was able to pull the more civilized parts of myself together, though this was probably also in thanks to my choosing not to utilize my sense of smell. I found it funny that at least one of his thoughts had been in a similar vicinity. But of course, the rest of his thoughts were probably free of all consuming agony and struggle. For all his curiosity about morality, to inflict this existence upon him would probably devour him in misery. At least as a human, despite whatever conclusions he may come to, there was still some hope to be had for an afterlife. This thought should have been dark and depressing, but because it made Alice’s vision seem like a complete hoax, I almost found it funny. How would Edward ever end up like me?

“Oh, no,” I swallowed the venom in my mouth. “I live for attention.” I watched from the corner of my eyes as his gaze flickered over to me, the ever present half smile appearing on his face at my joke. My answer came out so comfortably as though I was used to this, when in reality, the student body for the most part had grown accustomed to ignoring me. And, of course, there was nothing comfortable about the demanding, aching dryness in my mouth or the burning in my nostrils. “How about you?”

“Likewise,” he joked, laughing. “This is interesting –– their fascination. I understood their interest on my first day because I’d guess a new addition to the student body in a town this small is something of a rarity, but today, walking by your side is garnering even more attention. Is it a once in a lifetime opportunity to have Bella Cullen walk you to class?”

“You’re just _so_ observant, aren’t you?” I rolled my eyes, though the corners of my mouths pulled up despite myself. “And I’m not walking you to class. I’m walking to a class I just so happen to share with you, so don’t get the wrong idea. I think they’re just surprised because they’re probably under the impression that I don’t play nice with others.”

“And do you?”

“You tell me,” I replied, pausing to face him beside a wall of lockers next to the entrance of our biology classroom. As he stopped beside me, a gust of air from a passing student walking hastily down the hallway sent his scent reeling into me at an unfortunate moment where I’d chosen to breathe in. My muscles tensed to spring, and I desperately anchored myself to the floor as my mind fell into disarray.

“Nicely enough,” Edward winked naturally as though we’d been the best of friends since his first day. The demanding thirst was intruding on my awareness, and the desperation for something wet and hot and delicious in my desiccated throat was so dizzying that his voice sounded as though it were underwater. With an effort as though I were swimming through drying cement, I resurfaced, just barely proving my dominion over the desire. I focused on his voice so that it’d become clearer, forcing myself to take another excruciating breath in and exhale the fire out. “I will say I am honored to be the exception –– to be plucked from the masses by the renowned, reclusive Bella Cullen.”

With torturous effort, I snorted as though I wasn’t fighting everything within me to keep him alive. I breathed in again heavily, allowing my body to become a pyre so that I could speak. “Alright, that’s enough. Stop saying my name like that. And you’ve lost the privilege. I am never walking you to class again,” I rolled my eyes even though my joke could very much be the truth. The bunching of my muscles, the twitching of my hands, and the fierce pain in my throat reminded me of the fact. Before he could point out the contradiction of what I’d previously clarified, I sighed. “Let’s take this quiz.”

His pretty green eyes were alive with mischief and enlightened with what must be more answers to questions he hadn’t outright asked me as he turned to enter the classroom. I followed behind him towards our shared table.

Air from the vent rushed out, thrusting the scent of his blood wafting into my face again. I paused for an indistinguishable moment as I battled agony, murderousness, monstrosity. _Holy fuck._ What was I trying to prove! Was it really worth this? Swallowing hard, I sat beside him as though nothing happened. My suffering was so great that Emmett could have brutally ripped my arm off, he could have beat me with it, and I wouldn’t have noticed nor felt a thing. I could have been set on fire, and it’d feel like sinking into a cool pool of water on an even cooler day. I was already burning alive, my body acting as a furnace, and I was imprisoned inside it.

Without intending to, I sighed aloud, exhaling as though it would smother the flames. It was a stupid, attention seeking thing to do. Humans sighed to expel air or express some sadness or relief or exhaustion, so when my family emitted an audible breath, we did so as a means of blending in. But to breath out in a way to clue Edward into the fact something was plaguing me… it was a stupid invitation for more questions. And these were questions I had no intention of sharing the answers to. I felt his eyes on me, but before he could say anything, Mr. Molina began passing out quizzes face down on our lab tables as students continued to pile in from lunch.

“Alright, class. Today we have a pop quiz–– oh, come on, guys, don’t groan. You will have the opportunity to make corrections after these have been graded. This is just an assessment of what you’ve retained from this unit so far. You will have the entire period to complete–– thanks for joining us, Mr. Patterson, glad you could fit my class into your busy schedule. Why don’t you take your seat? –– You will have the entire period to complete your quiz. If you finish early, feel free to get a head start on this weekend’s homework! I’ve written the reading down on the board. Aw, I’m sure you’re all moaning because you’re disappointed at how light of an assignment it is because I just know how _very_ excited you all are to continue your passionate pursuit of studying biology. Alright, now that everyone’s settled–– wait a minute––”Mr. Molina paused, raising his pointer finger in the air, his eyes squinted in anticipation. Three seconds later, the bell signaled the beginning of class. “Begin!”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Edward reluctantly turn away from me. In an elegant script, he wrote his name at the top of the paper and began his quiz. I turned away from him to look at my own paper, preparing myself to uncomfortably hold my breath for the next hour. The difference this made in my thirst was almost insignificant, but enough so that it gave me a tiny more leverage in my control. I smoothed out the pucker on my forehead with the eraser from my pencil, accidentally snapping the rubber off against my face.

Absentmindedly, I began to breeze through the assessment, circling the correct answers, but my mind was more absorbed in the warmth of sitting beside Edward. Aside from the affliction of doing so, it was too pleasurable to have sat beside him so often and for so long today. I enjoyed the toastiness like a lizard basking in the sun. It made me recall the muddy human memory of laying out on a blanket in my backyard beneath my beloved blue Arizona sky, hiding beneath the small shade of a book. Not the blistering heat of a summertime Phoenix sun, but the warmth of the first day of spring. But the heat of Edward’s body alone was enough to fill my mouth with venom, so I tried to refocus my attention onto my quiz.

When I turned to the last page of questions, a motion beside me diverted my concentration once again. I peeked over, turning my head slightly in Edward’s direction to see what it was. As he thought over one of the questions, his right hand was moving peculiarly as he lifted and dropped down his long fingers almost as though he were impatiently tapping each digit one by one along the tabletop. Except the movement was more exact and calculatingly random. Engrossed, I watched as his his soft, fragile skin rippled over the muscle, the tendons appearing and disappearing with every bizarre movement. It took me a moment to make the connection between the large grand piano in his home and the motion of his hands. I realized he was miming piano movements while he thought through his answers. There was something both weird, funny, and endearing about this. I smiled to myself, not having the required oxygen to quietly laugh.

I felt his curious eyes flicker over to me and watched peripherally as he raised his eyebrows. I shook my head, biting down on my lip to unsuccessfully fight the smile, and returned to completing my quiz.

I finished a moment later and impatiently waited another ten minutes or so before I could turn in my work. I tried to ignore Edward for this small period of time at least, mentally reading myself the opening chapter to _Wuthering Heights_. Even though the words were committed to my memory, it was still never as good as actually reading from the book itself.

Once I’d decided an appropriate enough time had passed, I stood up to walk my quiz to the completed basket on Mr. Molina’s desk. Even having waited, I was still the first to finish the examination.

“Thank you,” the teacher whispered without breaking his focus away from the crossword puzzle he peered through his glasses at. I breathed in now that I’d placed some distance between myself and Edward, gladly facing the cool, fresh air from the vent.

“Neophyte,” I whispered back now that I’d replenished my oxygen supply.

“Excuse me?” He glanced up, his slightly aged face confused.

“Neophyte,” I repeated. “Eight across, two down.”

I took in one last clean breath and walked back to my seat as he tapped his pen across the squares of the space, mouthing his count of the letters to check if the word fit.

As soon as I took my place in my seat again, Edward stood up to walk his own quiz to the basket.

I wanted to watch him, but instead I forced myself to unzip my backpack and retrieve the biology textbook.

Busying myself with the assigned chapters, deciding to actually read them so as to not feed into my invasive Edward obsession, I couldn’t help but listen as Edward too placed his own textbook on the countertop.

I heard the scribble of pen on paper as he began to write what I imagined were notes until his large hand slid the paper over to me beneath the wall of my hair spilling over the desk. Well, I wouldn’t ignore him if he was the one deciding to bother me.

_You know I’m pretty certain that cheating is a violation of the student handbook, but I’ll let you get away with it just this once._

I turned to glance at his face to see if he were serious. His eyes were warm and inviting, his mouth in the same crooked smile.

I took the piece of paper and looked around for my writing utensil that had gone missing somehow. My eyes zeroed in on a suspicious, tiny pile of wood dust on my side of the desk. When had I brutalized my pencil? He held his hand out to offer his own pen, and I accepted it, carefully plucking it from his fingers without making contact.

_I wasn’t cheating. You were doing something funny. And what do you know about the student handbook? You’re new._

I slid the paper and pen back to him and watched as he combed a hand through his bronze hair, reading my response. The smile grew wider as he construed the biting tone of my note.

 _Can I be let in on the joke?_ Edward wrote, turning to look at me once he was done. Again I was prisoner, though this time not to my own body. I was momentarily held hostage by the beauty and warmth of his light green eyes. I was understanding more and more the attraction the other students had for him. If I had a soul, it was as though he were staring straight into it.

I recovered, placing my hand atop the desk and then wiggling my fingers as though I were weaving my way through a very complicated piano piece.

 _Oh,_ Edward mouthed, immediately understanding. He silently laughed and placed his left hand to his forehead briefly as if to hide his face in mock embarrassment. The ink from the pen spilled onto the paper as he began to write again.

_In my defense, there’s research that supports classical music puts students in a heightened emotional state, making them more receptive to information and helping them focus._

_That’s very nerdy of you._ I scribbled back, the corners of my lips pulled upwards.

 _I know._ As I read the words on the notebook paper, we both laughed a little too loudly for the quietness of the room.

“Please remain silent for your classmates still working,” Mr. Molina stage-whispered from his desk, his eyes still fixated on the crossword puzzle.

 _It’s a bad habit._ Edward tacked on to his message. I beamed. I knew a thing or two about bad habits today. I was appreciative of this silent conversation on paper; it made it easier to be beside him without needing to breathe to speak aloud.

 _What were you playing?_ I scrawled.

 _Clair de Lune._ Edward wrote back. His thick eyebrows raised as my eyes lit up, and he continued writing. _You know Debussy?_

_My mother used to play a lot of classical music around the house. It was one of my favorites._

_It’s one of my favorites, too._ Edward’s eyes were a little sad and lost in thought, and he smiled softly.

I was shocked by the change in expression and weirdly desperate to return the brightness back to his eyes. The burn in my throat was almost forgettable in the face of my concern. Almost, but not quite. He turned his head down to write on the paper again.

 _You said Rosalie played piano. You never learned?_ He turned to look at me, his expression curious. I shook my head and shrugged, reaching for the pen.

 _I didn’t think I had the coordination for it._ While this was true for the time I was human, it wasn’t true now. Still, even though my days stretched into endless nights, I hadn’t yet devoted time to any instrument as an immortal.

Edward read the paper, his long pointer finger tracing the line beneath the words as he did so. He held his large hand out, and I dropped the pen into it.

 _I’ll show you sometime._ Edward half smiled at me, his eyes sweet and earnest.

Knowing I shouldn’t be allowing him to think making a plans with me was an option, I reached for the pen to tell him that it was alright, but I froze as he suddenly moved to drop the pen and take my hand. Though he should have been the one hesitant and cautious as though approaching a dangerous, wounded animal, I held perfectly still as though he were the danger, and I needed to play dead for protection. _You can’t play dead if you are dead,_ I thought to myself.

My body tensed as my hand was enveloped in the heat of his much larger palm, uncertain as to what he was doing. My muscles screamed at me as I clenched my free hand into a tight fist, terrified of myself.

A shiver rippled through him as he felt the chill of my frozen fingers, and I twitched the hand in his possession, wanting to yank it away to protect him from the iciness but not wanting to alert him with the swiftness of the motion.

He smiled mysteriously at the spasm as though he somehow expected it. I wanted to ask him what he was thinking but didn’t want to risk breathing. My control could too easily be lost. Besides, I was scared that if I were to open my mouth, I’d end up screaming.

I felt him push slightly and realized he wished for me to curl my fingers, so with great concentration and the acute awareness of his fragility, I moved my stony hand into the shape he directed, my fingers curved slightly beneath his like a relaxed talon. I didn’t like the shape; it was odd and inhuman and made me think of the violence I could cause.

But it wasn’t a claw. Because once my hand was positioned the way he wanted, he began to slowly place pressure on my fingers, and I dipped and rose them accordingly to carefully move with his. I watched as the two of our hands together played what I imagined must be the opening chords to Clair de Lune.

The disconcerting emptiness in my chest soared at the bizarre pleasure of this touch, and a weird sensation tickled my scalp, moving swiftly down my spine to my entire body.

My muscles tightened violently and then relaxed, sending a shiver to ripple through me. It was too much pleasure and too much pain as my throat ached and I leaned into the warmth.

Embarrassed and not wanting to push my luck, I cautiously pulled my hand slowly away. He lifted his hand to allow me to escape as though I couldn’t just break his hand to do so, a half-smile pulling on his lips. I pretended not to notice the goosebumps on his arms.

 _See?_ he mouthed before deciding to whisper. “You could do it.”

I forced myself to smile and then turned away for the rest of the hour, trying to keep from doing anything stupid like looking at him or killing him. I’d completely forgotten where we were.

When the bell finally rung, I collected my things atop the desk hastily. Edward reached for my backpack and held it up for me.

“Thanks,” I murmured as I dumped my books into the bag. Before I could take it from him, he slid it onto his back and nodded his head once for me to go forward.

Feeling awkward, I turned and allowed him to follow me to the door. I was lucky to walk in front of him, taking the opportunity to breath again as the vent blew out in front of my face.

Exiting the classroom, I paused for a second when I saw Emmett waiting for me across the hallway rather than his typical spot beside the wall of lockers next to our shared Spanish classroom. Even though I was well aware of the fact I’d been dangling my irresponsibility in their faces all day, I still felt as though I was being caught in the act.

Emmett’s eyebrows raised as his golden eyes watched Edward follow behind me, carrying my backpack. I crossed the hallway reluctantly towards my big brother.

“Hello,” I greeted him, avoiding his eyes. I felt smaller than ever beside him with my head down, and yet not small enough as I wished to disappear.

“Hey, little sis,” Emmett began uncertainly, though I glanced up to see his full lips were beginning to stretch into a smile that I didn’t like. “Who’s that with you?”

“Uh…”

“I’m Edward Masen,” the lanky human boy introduced himself confidently as he stopped beside me. “And you must be––”

“Emmett,” my brother interrupted, grinning as though he always so comfortably interacted with humans. This was all too weird, but he looked to be enjoying it far too much. His desire to mess with me and his confidence in Alice’s visions seemed to override the abnormality of speaking to a student so amicably. I watched as he breathed in and shot me a meaningful look. I grimaced.

I opened my mouth to put an end to this torturously awkward interaction, but Emmett interrupted again.

“It’s nice to see you made a friend,” he began, an evil glint in his eyes as he watched my face. I was confused as to where he was going with this because our entire family would come across as misanthropic to the rest of the school, so why should it matter to him. He turned his attention to look at Edward who was closer in height to him. “You know, we worry about her––”

“Okay, let’s go to Spanish,” I cut him off quickly. “Edward, can I have my bag, please?”

Without looking at him, I reached for my backpack as he offered it and threw it over my shoulder, heading down the hallway. It was a massive relief to put some distance between myself and Edward. My thoughts were clearer, and I could breathe freely.

Emmett burst into laughter, his guffaws booming in the hallway. Several students paused in fear making me concerned about Edward’s reaction to my giant of a sibling, but I relaxed when I heard Edward chuckling along with him.

“Um, see you,” Emmett said to Edward before his steady, near silent footfall followed after me.

Even moving at a lethargic human pace, he caught up to me quickly.

“That wasn’t funny,” I grumbled.

“What the hell are you doing?” Emmett chuckled, ignoring my question.

“What the hell are _you_ doing? What _was_ that back there?”

“I don’t know. That was weird, but not as weird as you playing with your food.”

I hissed quietly.

“Damn, I’m _kidding,_ Bells. But seriously, what are you doing? What happened to your high and noble speech about doing the right thing and staying away from the kid? I thought Esme was about to produce real tears. It even softened Rose.”

“Ugh, don’t talk to me about Rosalie right now. She’s been giving me dirty looks all day. It makes me feel awful. I already feel bad!”

“Well, I don’t really care what you do either way so––” I looked at him questionably. “I mean, sure, I want you to do the right thing, whatever that means. I don’t want you to feel miserable. But on one end, I didn’t really mind so much what happened to me.”

“Rosalie did,” I countered.

“Yeah, Rose did,” he acquiesced quietly.

“Anyways, I’m not having that conversation. I wasn’t talking to him today to test whether or not he’s worth it. That’s… unethical.”

“So what were you doing?”

“I don’t know,” I groaned in answer.

Emmett laughed.

“You’re weird these days, Bella.”

“You’re weird everyday,” I quipped back before sighing. “I don’t know. He’s weird, too. I guess… I’m not making any decisions, _at all,_ but if Alice told you what she told me… wouldn’t _you_ be curious?”

Emmett thought it over. “Yeah, I think so. But I also don’t think I’d have even made it to this point,” he admitted. I winced.

“It’s kind of unfair for me to care more about satiating my curiosity and dance with the devil this way, right?”

“Well…he may not know it, but isn’t it more so that Edward’s the one dancing with the devil?”

“Yeah,” I agreed, frowning as we walked into our Spanish class. “I guess it is.”

I made the decision to avoid thinking of Edward for the remaining hour of school. I paid very little attention in Spanish, returning to the familiar mind-numbing boredom that classes had been prior to the last few days. Now that it was in stark contrast to the sudden life breathed into my time at Forks High School by my fixation with Edward, the tedium was no longer something dealt with indifferently and sluggishly. Now, it left me feeling restless, and it almost pained me how laborious it was to sit through a life I wasn’t an active participant in. It was nowhere near the pain of dealing with the excruciating thirst I had around my bronze-haired lab partner, but it almost tampered with my thoughts more knowing I’d feel less miserable if I spent this time analyzing every word Edward shared with me, every fluctuation of his tone, every glint in his perceptive eyes, every expression on his pretty face… But I was becoming too obsessive. The same hunger for adventure that made me fall in love with reading must be what was leading me to so treacherously, so impetuously dive into exploring this insignificant and yet cataclysmic difference in my life.

As though it had a personal vendetta against me, time moved even more lethargically than it ever had before, but finally, the bell signaling the end of school rang. Emmett’s eyes shot a concerned look at me as I rose from my seat too quickly, and I immediately felt embarrassed again. The cautious reminder in his expression made me feel childish as Emmett was never one to care much about bending the rules.

“See you at home, I guess,” he shook his head, giving me one last look that seemed to suggest I’d lost it.

“See you,” I mumbled, slinging my bag over my shoulder. Leaving Emmett behind to wait for Rosalie, I weaved through the crowded hallway and out to the parking lot. Students were bundling together and squealing at the chilling air as tiny, fluffy snowflakes fluttered down from the overcast sky. The floor of the parking lot was almost as glassy as yesterday as the rain from this afternoon had melted into a thin layer of icy mush. Though there was hardly enough snow for a decent snowball fight, some of the rowdier students were bundling up a pitiful pile of snow to form pathetic snowballs in their fists.

I nearly skipped to the pearly white vehicle parked beside Rosalie’s overly conspicuous crimson car which was forming a small crowd of admirers. Leaning against the trunk of the car, I watched the front doors of the school to look for Edward.

The tangle of reddish-brown hair was easy to spot because of its strange metallic tint as he strolled out of the building with Naomi, the student who’d provided him with the information about my family on his first day. He had his coat folded over his arm, revealing how form fitting his light tan turtleneck was. He truly was a very attractive boy. It was odd that I hadn’t really paid much attention initially. With his dazzling face and tall, lean frame, Edward was pretty enough that for the vampires who searched for exquisitely beautiful humans to create into even more stunning immortals, he could probably be a contender for someone to collect.

Thinking of how Emmett questioned my motives today, I quickly banished the idea of Edward as an immortal from my mind, even if it was only a hypothetical inspired by my observation.

Edward paused, asking Naomi if she could hold on to his backpack for a moment. When she grabbed it, he pulled on his long black coat, and fiddled with the collar. Recollecting his backpack, he slid it onto one shoulder, then rubbed his hands together, blowing the warm air from his mouth to heat them up. Thinking of the sweetness of the smell of his breath made me remember to take in swallows of fresh air before he made his way over to me.

As he was distracted momentarily, I watched as a stray snowball flew towards Edward’s head. I was overcome with the urge to intercept it in the event it may hit him too harshly and knock him to the pavement, but flying across the parking lot inhumanly fast twice in one week was probably not the way to go about correcting my mistakes.

The soggy snowball crashed into Edward’s hair, exploding into shards of ice and water that slid down his prominent cheekbone. I laughed aloud at his shocked expression as the curtain bangs framing his face were immediately drenched, darkening his hair into a brown color. Once he’d realized what happened, his face broke into a good-humored smile.

“Holy shit! Sorry, Edward!” The classmate who had thrown the snowball with poor aim called out.

“No worries!” Edward called back. He shook his head, chuckling as he wiped the water from his face. As he laughed, his eyes found the space where I waited and brightened seeing that I, too, was enjoying the moment.

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he told Naomi, who was too beside herself in tears of laughter to reply.

Edward sauntered over towards me, and I inhaled deeply as a fortuitous whisper of wind blew from the tree line. I held onto the notes of crisp eucalyptus, fresh snow, and cedar wood, trying to distract my mind from the offensively mouthwatering scents approaching me.

Edward was a coordinated human, but even he lost his footing on the icy pavement. His body slid forward for a moment, but I stepped towards him to close the space between us and caught him by the elbow.

He looked up from his boots against the frozen parking lot into my eyes, startled momentarily at the swiftness in which I had appeared. Then, his full lips lifted into a crooked smile that creased his astonishing green eyes into half moons. I let go immediately and took a big step back to ensure a safer distance between myself and the warmth of his fragile body. It had been a risky movement, but somehow in comparison to yesterday, it didn’t seem to matter as much. I figured our classmates were too involved in their gawking at the details of my sister’s car or their feeble, slushy snowball fight to notice, and oddly, I didn’t care that Edward had seen. It was beginning to feel too late to keep up certain pretenses.

Although, it wasn’t too late, and it shouldn’t feel that way. I reminded myself I still had every intention of leaving Edward alone once I’d figured out what was so compelling about our paths crossing that had Alice’s visions spiraling in a confusing jumble. I took another step back slowly.

“Thank you,” Edward said, his eyes humored with another secret he didn’t seem willing to share. “You keep saving me.”

“Well, let’s not make this damsel in distress thing habitual,” I snorted, turning so that he couldn’t see the smile forming on my face. I felt shy about showcasing any comfort or happiness in his presence now that I was reminded of how fleeting this experimental friendship was, but I wondered if subconsciously I wanted him to catch me in my misery and ask me to explain, though I wasn’t certain why I wanted to sabotage myself like that. I opened my door and turned to look at him again. “You coming?”

Before he could answer, I dipped into the driver’s seat, and breathed in one last time. Well, once this was all over, I could finally stop inhaling dramatically as though they were truly my last, dying breaths. The air was mostly clean of his scent, but I knew that regardless, the heat of his body would be enough to disrupt my comfort and control. As the thought crossed my mind, I painfully swallowed back the venom pooling beneath my tongue.

Edward swerved through the crowd obsessing over Rosalie’s car and opened the passenger door, sliding into his seat. As he placed his backpack on the floor and fiddled with his seatbelt, I made sure to adjust the air conditioning so that the heat could warm Edward from the frigid Forks air. Though for me, just being in his presence made the intimate interior of the car feel as though I were again sitting by his fireplace.

“That’s a beautiful car,” he murmured. “Is it an M8?”

“Uh, it’s a BMW?” I asked uncertainly as though he’d spoken another language.

Edward grinned as though he wanted to laugh but didn’t want to make me angry. Rosalie would have loved to answer all his questions if he too had an interest in cars. Would have loved to, if she wasn’t deeply offended by my actions or if I had any intention of Edward meeting any more of my family members.

“Ready?” I bit my lip as I forced out any inconsiderate plots of murder that threatened to distract me from being a defensive driver.

“Mhm,” Edward answered.

I reversed out of the parking slot slowly, but as I looked in the rearview once I’d straightened out, I saw the fleeting image of Rosalie’s exquisitely beautiful and exceptionally angry face. I quickly readjusted the mirror to remove my sister’s reflection and sped out of the parking lot in a way that could have taken out a few unlucky students if I didn’t have above average years of driving experience.

Peripherally, I watched as Edward’s thick eyebrows raised, but he decided not to question me. Once we’d reached the main road, I slowed my speed so as not to rush through this time, even though I knew for his safety and my sanity, I should. As I drove, his right hand moved in odd shapes again against the arm rest of the passenger side door as though he were playing piano once more.

I decided to bite and use up some of my limited air supply.

“What are you playing?”

“Clair de Lune again,” he replied. Then, he began to hum the melody aloud for me as he moved his hand.

I thought to offer to play the song for him through the speakers, but I decided against it as I listened to Edward’s soft, velvety voice hum beautifully through the song, breaking the silence.

The ugly, slush-like falling of snow transformed into a falling of rainwater, and Edward’s voice was orchestrated by a lovely symphony of raindrops.

Before his voice could weave into the more involved moments of the piece, Edward stopped.

I looked over at him, curious for the reason as to why. His face was turned away from me so that all I could see was his untidy bronze hair as he gazed out the window. I pulled in front of his driveway and parked against the curb.

Miraculously, I’d made it again. Carefully, I inhaled through my nose to experiment with my control. The sweet bouquet of the boy’s blood was potent and even more mouthwatering than usual from the snow turned rain that’d wet his hair. I hadn’t considered the possibility that he could smell better than before, and I kept myself from groaning aloud as I dug my nails into my own palms. The tingling sensation in my nose was as though I’d sniffed some powerful chemical, the burning sensation in my throat as though I’d taken a long drag of a cigarette. But more painful. More demanding. Desire, need flew from my core out towards my extremities, and the beating of his heart pumping the blood through his body drummed loudly in my ears. It seemed to move through me, my frigid body almost twitching with every pulse, ready to lunge forward and crush his neck to my lips.

“What was your mother like?” He asked me suddenly, his voice soft. Edward turned from the window to face me, and I was bewildered by the intensity of his expression. His eyes were light and beautiful against the gloomy grey of the sky, and they squinted slightly as though studying my face like this information was absolutely essential. But this was not what stunned me, as I’d already seen the severity of this expression before in our ephemeral time together. It was the unexpected vulnerability of his stunning face. The more time I spent looking at him, the more I realized how beautiful this human boy really was. And it seemed a great tragedy for this beautiful boy to harbor such devastation in his eyes.

Whereas previously in his presence, my thoughts had become incoherent due to a lapse in control, now my thoughts were incoherent in distress and desperation to understand what had gone wrong and how I could fix it. I was momentarily dumbfounded, but I pulled myself together after the soft sound of a few droplets of rain against the roof reminded me that he was waiting for an answer.

“Well, she looked a lot like me, but prettier,” I began stupidly. He raised his eyebrows. “Or at least, she used to look a lot like me, and I used to look a lot like her. I don’t so much anymore.” It’d been so long since I’d really spoken about my mom, and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to laugh or cry. I knew I should have made some comment about whether or not she looked like Esme or Emmett since our story made us siblings, but I didn’t want to taint the rarity of sharing who she was with a lie.

“She was more outgoing than I am,” I continued, thinking through the foggy memories I held onto from my human life.

“That’s difficult to believe,” Edward teased quietly, his lips curving into a half smile.

I laughed, listening to the melodic sound of it, thinking of how it symbolized how very much different I was now from the human girl my mother knew.

“I was always very shy,” I smiled, before speaking up again, caught in the echoes of my past. “She was brave and irresponsible and slightly eccentric. And she was a very unpredictable cook!”

I laughed aloud again thinking of some minor explosions in our tiny kitchen and some questionable dishes. Edward laughed too, but when our laughter faded into the falling of the rain, my smile faded.

“She wasn’t perfect,” I admitted. “I think I recognize now that she was very fallible. I worshipped her when I was younger, but when I think back, I do see how in some of the ways she raised me, I was done a disservice… I grew up too fast. When she died––“ I sighed, feeling insincere and guilty about perpetuating this lie when I really should have said when _I_ died, “––Esme became more of a mother to me, and even Rosalie’s been more traditionally nurturing than my mom ever was… But still, she was my best friend.”

“You miss her,” he murmured simply. I met his gentle eyes.

“Yes,” I bit my lip.

“How old are you, Bella?” Edward asked. “And not the formulaic, theorized version where you were born in your thirties. How old are you really?”

I tensed, wondering if he was asking this again because he’d taken note of how I didn’t directly answer this question the last time he asked.

“Seventeen,” I answered automatically.

“You don’t seem seventeen,” he responded, reproachful.

The tension left my body at the tone of his voice. I smiled again easily.

“Sorry?” I asked, biting my lip to hide the smile, unsure of how to respond.

Edward chuckled and the subtle crinkles by his eyes lit up his face. “Well, I wish you’d been given a happier, normal childhood.”

“I’m fine,” I shrugged, brushing it off. “I hardly remember most of it, and what I do remember reminds me that I probably didn’t have much chance at a normal childhood to begin with. I was terribly shy, remember.

“I did do girl scouts, though….Oh, and ballet briefly,” I admitted, unsure as to why I was volunteering so much information about myself. Wasn’t the purpose of me sitting here to uncover information about him?

“Why does that make you… embarrassed?” Edward’s eyebrows pulled up.

For an odd moment, I felt betrayed by the flush of my cheeks before I realized there was no blood rushing to my face. I blinked, bewildered by the peculiarity of this long buried instinct to become frustrated with my easy blushes when I hadn’t blushed for years. I felt self conscious as I wondered what Edward saw reading my expression to so perfectly decipher my feelings.

“I was very uncoordinated,” I dismissed his question as I fought the urge for my hand to flutter to touch my cool cheek.

“Now that truly _is_ difficult to believe,” Edward half-smiled. “I can’t imagine I’ve seen anyone as graceful as you.”

I laughed aloud at his compliment, though I didn’t doubt his sincerity. I knew this was true of myself. It was true of all of our kind to appear fluid and effortless, but still, no one had ever applied the word to me. My vampiric poise was irrelevant and unimpressive to my family, and the very few humans brave enough to overcome their nerves to compliment me typically found their words to fail them.

“You’re very odd,” I beamed.

“What do you mean?” The bronze-haired boy asked, again wanting to be let in on the secret. While I had an insatiable thirst, it seemed he had an insatiable curiosity.

“How old are _you_ really? Your word choice is bizarre for someone your age, you know.”

“Oh,” he laughed easily. “Well, I’m actually not seventeen. I’m eighteen. But I’ll try to strictly adhere to a more teenage vernacular, so I can compliment you in a more acceptable way from now on.”

I looked out at the dim light of the brewing storm, my smile fading as I decided that I should probably allow him to escape me before I did something I’d regret. But I knew I wasn’t resolved enough to completely leave him alone. He made me monopolize too much of the conversation, and I wasn’t satisfied with what I knew about him yet.

I sighed aloud, and Edward, too, looked out at the rain darkened sky.

“Will I see you tomorrow?” he asked hopefully, making the assumption that our conversation was coming to an end.

“Yes,” I promised reluctantly. My eyes flickered back over to his pretty face, studying the lines of his strong jaw, his chiseled cheekbones, his full lips, committing this inconsequential face to memory as I silently resolved that this should be –– and would be –– one of the last times I’d allow myself to be this close to him. Tomorrow may well be the very last.

Likewise, as though his thoughts were in the same vein, his beautiful green eyes studied my face as well, though he did so in that mysterious way of his where he looked at me as though hoping to read my mind.

He sighed, then collected his backpack. Edward opened the door, stepping out into the bitterly cold weather. A shiver ran through his lanky body, making my body tense with perverse excitement. I cringed away from the deadly instinct and swallowed against the dryness of my yearning throat.

Edward’s tall, lean frame leaned down to peek into the car.

“Goodnight, Bella,” he spoke softly.

“Goodnight, Edward,” I almost whispered, gazing into the beauty of his dazzling green eyes.

Edward smiled his half smile, and closed the door, escaping into the building torrent of rain.

I gasped in relief at his absence, then stiffened realizing how the cab of the car was still heavily perfumed with his scent. I took in another deep breath, forcing myself to confront the burning thirst again, willing myself to manage it. I sighed as I hit the gas, making Edward disappear behind me.

Both my control and the rain pour strengthened significantly as I turned onto the long drive leading to my house. I grimaced as I wondered how I’d face my family and explain the complete reversal of what I’d promised to do. I didn’t have time to consider for much longer as suddenly, a figure appeared instantaneously in the drive. I slammed my foot on the brake immediately in shock at its appearance, not wanting to total yet another car against one of my siblings.

I peered through the windshield, unable to see through the complete downpour that submerged my vehicle as though it were underwater. It was annoying for my perfect sight to be obstructed by anything, rainwater or even the transparent windshield because of my eyes’ desire to focus on the microscopic scratches.

The car violently screeched against the muddy pavement, and it looked as though we would have to bid this car goodbye until the figure hidden by the storm placed their hands out on the car roughly and forced it to a stop. The tires screamed in protest, and the metal groaned as it warped into the shape of the palms. I listened as it unnaturally bent again in a piercing moan as the figure fixed the indentions they’d created.

My windshield wipers swatted away a flood of water. Finally, I could make out my sister Rosalie, her hair dripping wet down her back like a supermodel who’d just emerged from a pool on the cover of _Sports Illustrated._ Her exquisite face was absolutely furious.

I gulped, feeling like a child who’d just been discovered sneaking home past curfew.

I felt uncertain as to what to do and why she’d chosen to stop me here. Surely she could wait for us to be under the cover of the garage before she chastised me. Not wanting to be drenched by the rain, I revved the engine to ask her to move aside, but the car didn’t inch forward against her strength. Beginning to feel annoyed, I revved the engine again loudly and for longer, but still, she didn’t move.

“Rose,” I hissed as I hit the brake again so that the car could roar viciously in the storm, only to be cut off by the voice of my adopted mother.

 _“Girls!”_ I couldn’t see Esme through the obscured glass behind the downpour, but even with the barrage of the rain, I could hear her lithe steps run furiously to the front porch. “Please!”

Rose’s head snapped up to look in Esme’s direction before turning to glance unhappily back at me. She stepped aside, and I sped into the garage, parking the car hastily.

I exited immediately and went to expect the damage to the front of the hood. It was only a minuscule bend from having been pushed and prodded back and forth, and I was positive Rosalie could make it look like new, though why it had been necessary to punish the car was beyond me. It wasn’t even mine.

I wheeled around once I’d heard the near-silent steps of her run, a wave of anger making me forget my guilt.

“Are you _insane?!”_ I demanded.

“I could ask the same of you, Bella!” Now free from the obscurity of the rain, I could see in perfect detail the stunning fury of her glorious face. Her golden hair had been darkened by the rain, and it was slicked back effortlessly, like a glittering waterfall down to the middle of her back. She looked like a wrathful god, but I couldn’t find it in my stubbornness to care about how valid her anger may be.

“Okay, but did you have to take it out on _the car?_ What did it ever do to you! You couldn’t have waited another twenty seconds to confront me? Well, you have my attention now, Rosalie, so say whatever it is you want to say!”

“You’re just unbelievable, Bella!”

“He’s not going to say anything, Rose! We already talked about this yesterday. You heard Alice! He’s not a threat to you and Emmett, so I don’t understand why you’re taking this so personally.”

“Exactly, Bella. _I_ heard Alice. Which is precisely why I fail to understand as to why _you_ wouldn’t understand why I’d take it so personally. After all these years of sisterhood, how can you not understand how I feel about this?”

I frowned, my forehead puckering, but still, I retained my anger. She huffed, continuing.

“If it was an inevitability, I’d understand. However, it hurts me deeply that you recognize the choice that you have. The choice that Edward has. And still, you’re willing to play with his mortality as though it were a game, when I never had that choice.”

I froze, the realization dawning on me that she was right. No matter the ways in which I tried to justify my actions or spin my intentions, she was right. Another part of my mind acknowledged that while I was aware of right and wrong, I wasn’t certain that what was right would be enough to keep me away anymore.

We stared each other down much like we had yesterday. Only today, rather than anger, her face was contorted in hurt, and mine was contorted in hopelessness.

“But… you found Emmett when he was still human…” I weakly protested, selfishly trying to highlight the irony, though I knew it was pointless as I wasn’t advocating for Edward to be changed either. That was too complicated a thought to wrap my mind around. But whatever may happen –– and I was still very much aware of the worst of possibilities –– I didn’t want my sister to hate me for it.

“He was dying, Bella,” Rosalie whispered. The anger on her face had completely faded, and in its place, pain marked her eyebrows, her full lips, her golden, sad eyes. In her sadness, she looked like a work of art, like one of those paintings of a weeping saint. “It’s not the same.”

I didn’t have a response to that, and I felt as though I was at an impasse, both with myself and with Rosalie. Because I knew the promises I’d made and broken, but I knew the promise I’d made to Edward today, and I had no willpower, no desire, and no intention to break that promise.

“You may not feel anything for him now,” Rosalie began, her eyes intently fierce as they bore into mine to warn me. Only this warning felt significantly more horrible than I’d imagined it may be, because it wasn’t made in anger, but in desperation and love. “But if Alice is right, you will. And it seems to me a horrible way to repay someone you love to steal their life, their future, their soul from them. You should leave him alone now while you still can, because once you love him… it’ll only hurt more one way or another. And you’ll have to live with that for the rest of your existence. I know I have.”

And with that, Rose turned, her face cold and sad, and she left the garage.


End file.
